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FAITH  AND  CHARACTER 


Faith  and  Character 


BY 

MARVIN  R^ VINCENT,  D.D. 

l>rJl  jvg.  fv/i^i*^*^  iu^^^  ^^^i.  ^'w^^  vA".  y. 


"Till  we  all  come  in  the  unity  of  the  faith,  and  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Son  of 
God,  unto  a  perfect  man,  unto  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fulness  of  Christ " 

EPHESIANSiv.  13 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 

743  AND  745  Broadway 

1880 


COPTEIGHT  BY 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS. 
1880. 


Trow's 

Printing  and  Bookbinding  Company, 

201-213  F-ast  x'ith  Street, 

NEW  YORK. 


-pnm: 


S:L 


MY    DEAR    FRIEND, 

OF  TROY,    N.  Y., 

IN   MEMORY  OF  OUR  YEARS   OF  HAPPY  FELLOWSHIP 
IN    THE   MINISTRY   OF  THE   WORD, 

3E  IgjelJuate  ftis  Volumt. 


PREFACE 


This  volume  is  composed  of  sermons,  preached 
at  different  times  to  my  congregation  of  the  Church 
of  the  Covenant,  and  does  not,  therefore,  claim  to 
be  the  methodical  development  of  a  single  topic. 

At  the  same  time,  a  reference  to  the  table  of  con- 
tents will  show  that  it  is  not  devoid  of  a  certain 
unity ;  and  that  its  title  is  fairly  representative,  and 
is  not  selected  arbitrarily,  nor  from  some  incidental 
feature  of  a  collection  of  miscellaneous  discourses. 
The  two  thoughts  of  FAITH  and  CHARACTER  un- 
derlie the  whole  book.  Each  sermon  deals,  either 
with  the  relations  and  bearings  of  character,  or  with 
the  principle  of  faith  in  the  unseen  as  its  only  per- 
manent basis. 

If  the  volume  shall  contribute,  in  any  degree,  to 
dissipate  that  indifferentism  toward  religion,  which  is 
rife,  and  which  carries  a  worse  menace  than  positive 


viii  Preface, 

unbelief;  if  it  shall  do  aught,  within  the  church  it- 
self, to  prick  that  dangerous  conceit  that  emotional 
raptures,  or  activity  in  church  work,  or  regular 
ecclesiastical  standing  can  be  substitutes  for  solid 
goodness  and  for  consistency  of  conduct ;  if  it  shall 
go  to  strengthen  the  emphasis  upon  the  fact  that 
religion  is  a  development  of  character,  and  is  not 
summed  up  in  the  single  experience  which  inaugu- 
rates that  development ;  if,  in  showing  that  char- 
acter attains  symmetry  through  discipline  and  con- 
flict, it  shall  nerve  some  sincere  but  discouraged 
soul  to  fight  its  way  across  the  storm-swept  expanse 
between  itself  and  its  ideal ;  if,  above  all,  it  shall 
help  any  man  to  a  larger  and  clearer  view  of  the 
divine  Saviour,  and  shall  enable  him  to  discover  a 
new  meaning  in  manhood  and  a  new  dignity  and 
sweetness  in  duty  through  their  relation  to  Jesus 
Christ,  it  will  not  have  been  written  in  vain. 

Marvin  R.  Vincent. 

Covenant  Parsonage,  yanuary  6,  1880. 


CONTENTS 


FAITH. 

PAGE 

I.  Faith  in  the  Unseen. 

1.  Seeing  the  Invisible.     (Hebrews  xi.  27.)  ,         .3 

II.  Intercourse  with  the  Unseen. 

2.  "  Because  of  his  Importunity."     (Luke  xi.  5-8.)      .     25 

III.  Christ  the  Interpreter  of  the  Unseen. 

3.  **  What  think  ye  of  Christ  ?"      (Matthew  xxii.  42.)     43 

4.  The  Wardship  of  the  Law.     (Galatians  iii.  24.)       .     61 

5.  Sonship  by  Receiving  Christ.      (John  i.  12.)    .         .     81 

6.  Rest  Given  and  Rest  Found.     (Matthew  xi.  28-30. )     97 

7.  The  Divine  Gift  of  Wisdom.     (James  i.  5,  6.) .         .117 

CHARACTER. 

I.  Its  Integrity. 

8.  The  Patched  Garment.     (Luke  v.  36.)     .         .         .135 

II.  Its  Development. 

9.  Infancy   and   Manhood   in    the    Sphere   of    Faith. 

(Hebrews  xi.  23-29.) 153 


X  Contents. 

PAGE 

10.  The   Divine   Law  of  Education.      (Deuteronomy 

xxxii.  IO-I2.) 173 

11.  Good  and  Bad  Building  on  the  One  Foundation. 

(I St  Corinthians  iii.  10-15.)         •  •         •         •   '93 

III.  Its  Risks. 

12.  Caution  and  Comfort  for  the  Tempted,     (ist  Cor- 

inthians x.  12,  13.) 211 

13.  Taste  and  Holiness.     (Philippians  iv.  8,  9.)  .         .231 

14.  Balaam.     (2d  Peter  ii.  15.) 249 

IV.  Its  Independence. 

15.  Christian  Self-Sufhciency.     (Philippians  iv.  11-13.)  269 

V.  Its  Attitude  toward  Men. 

16.  Christian  Relations  not  after  the  Flesh.     (2d  Cor- 

inthians V.  16.) 287 

VI.  Its  Active  Side. 

17.  Meat  or  Drudgery.     (John  iv.  34.)         .         .  .  305 

18.  The  Lesson  of  Moses' Rod.     (Exodus  iv.  2.).  .  323 

19.  The  Multiplied  Oil.     (2d  Kings  iv.  1-7.)        .  .341 

VII.  Its  Eternity. 

20.  The  Eternity  of  Godly  Character,     (ist  John  ii. 

I7-) 361 


^ 


SEEING  THE   INVISIBLE. 


HEBREWS   XI. 
( 27)  For  he  endured  as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible. 


SEEING  THE   INVISIBLE. 

This  chapter  is  a  catalogue  of  the  heroes  of  faith. 
The  words  of  the  text  refer  to  Moses,  and  sum  up 
and  explain  what  the  writer  has  been  saying  about 
his  renunciation  of  the  highest  worldly  advantages, 
for  the  sake  of  an  unseen,  future,  and,  humanly 
speaking,  most  improbable  good.  As  the  adopted 
son  of  the  royal  house  of  Egypt,  he  might  have  en- 
joyed the  powers  of  sovereignty,  the  pleasures  of 
wealth,  and  the  pure  delights  of  learned  leisure. 
Instead,  he  chose  a  lot  which  converted  his  patrons 
into  enemies,  which  withdrew  him  from  the  scene  of 
his  studies,  and  which  insured  him  toil,  anxiety,  and 
vexation  for  the  whole  remainder  of  his  life.  Almost 
every  day  we  see  fanatics  doing  strange  things,  and 
things  which  are  hurtful  to  themselves ;  but  Moses 
was  not  a  fanatic.  He  was  a  wise  man  in  the  worldly 
sense.  He  was  not  only  an  accomplished,  but  a 
shrewd  man.  He  knew,  as  well  as  any  sage  in  Egypt, 
how  chimerical,  how  hopeless,  how  utterly  senseless, 
such  a  movement  as  the  migration  of  the  Hebrews 
was,  viewed  from  the  standpoint  of  worldly  wisdom. 
If  he  saw  the  matter  from  God's  point  of  view,  he 
was  also  quite  competent  to  see  it  from  Pharaoh's. 


4  Faith  and  Character. 

The  explanation  of  this  strange  course  is  given  us 
by  the  writer  of  this  epistle  in  the  words  of  our  text. 
Moses  ignored  the  law  of  worldly  expediency,  and 
worked  and  suffered  under  a  higher  law,  as  one  who 
saw  a  lawgiver  whom  Egypt  could  not  see,  who  felt 
the  obligation  of  a  law  which  Egypt  did  not  recog- 
nize, who  worked  toward  a  result  which  did  not  enter 
into  the  dreams  of  Egypt's  wisest,  and  who  looked  for 
a  recompense  unseen,  intangible,  yet  richer  than  all 
the  treasures  of  the  Pharaohs.  **  He  endured  as 
seeing  Him  who  is  invisible. '' 

As  we  go  through  this  chapter,  we  see  that  Moses 
was  not  alone  in  acting  on  this  principle.  The  same 
principle  underlies  the  work  and  the  suffering  of 
every  one  who  is  named  in  that  wonderful  catalogue  ; 
the  principle  of  faith^  of  which  all  these  men  and 
women  are  cited  as  illustrations  :  and  faith  is  declared 
to  be  nothing  more  nor  less  than  this  clear  seeing  and 
realizing  of  that  which  is  unseen  by  the  world  at  large. 
You  read,  in  the  first  verse  of  this  chapter,  that  faith 
is  the  substance^  the  real  beings  of  things  which  to 
others  are  only  matters  of  hope :  it  is  the  demonstra- 
tion of  things  which  are  ?iot  seen. 

You  are  not  unfamiliar  with  the  same  thing  on  a 
lower  plane — a  region  quite  distinct  from  the  sphere 
of  religion.  Every  great  inventor  or  discoverer, 
every  great  man,  indeed,  who,  in  any  particular,  is  in 
advance  of  his  age,  illustrates  it.  A  Columbus  sees 
a  new  continent,  where  his  age  sees  only  a  madman 
putting  out  to  sea  in  quest  of  dreamland.  A  Palissy 
sees    the    potter's   work    improved    and    beautified, 


Seeing  the  Invisible.  5 

where  society  sees  only  a  fanatic  ruining  himself  by 
building  fires  to  destroy  good  cups  and  bowls.  A 
Watt  sees  weights  lifted  and  machinery  driven,  where 
his  neighbors  laugh  at  an  idiot  dreaming  over  a  boil- 
ing teakettle.  To  men  at  large,  these  things  are  but 
dreams^  fancies^  at  best,  hopes.  To  these  men  they  are 
real  facts. 

In  the  case  of  the  heroes  of  this  chapter,  we  find 
this  sense  of  realness  treated  in  its  relation  to  one  set 
of  facts  only :  the  facts,  namely,  of  the  invisible,  spirit- 
ual world  :  the  facts  of  the  order,  the  government,  and 
the  sanctions  of  a  moral  universe,  of  which  God  is  the 
administrator.  That  there  is  a  God,  that  He  governs 
the  world,  that  He  directs  the  thought  and  doing  of 
men,  that  He  loves  and  cares  for  them,  that  He 
calls  them  to  positions  and  sets  them  duties,  that  He 
will  fulfil  His  promises  to  them,  that  He  will  reward 
their  well-doing  and  punish  their  evil,  that  it  is  both 
right  and  most  profitable  to  obey  Him,  even  though 
obedience  entail  present  pain  and  loss — these  and 
similar  facts  are  the  ones  w^hich  faith  made  living  and 
telling  forces  in  the  lives  of  Noah  and  Enoch,  Abra- 
ham and  Moses,  David,  and  Samuel,  and  the  prophets. 
Evidently  the  invisible  world  was  very  real  to  those 
men.  Over  the  best  of  them,  it  had  more  power 
than  this  present,  visible  world.  You  know  how 
powerfully  their  age  influences  men  ;  how  much  it 
does  to  shape  them  ;  how  hard  and  how  rare  it  is  for 
a  man  to  rise  above  the  great,  accepted,  unquestioned 
convictions  of  his  time.  Does  it  not  then  seem  won- 
derful that  in  an  age  which  did  not  at  all  realize  the 


6  Faith  and  Character. 

fact  of  a  future  of  the  world,  in  which  the  present 
was  '*  as  much  a  boundary  of  the  world's  horizon,  and 
stood  as  much  upon  the  very  edge  of  time  as  to-day 
stands,"  Abraham  should  have  looked  into  an  "  indefi- 
nitely distant  era  of  the  world,  and  to  an  improved 
condition  of  the  world,"  with  a  fixedness,  a  clearness, 
and  a  certainty  which  even  our  Lord  remarked  ? 
"Your  father,  Abraham,"  He  says,  **  rejoiced  to  see  my 
day,  and  he  saw  it  and  was  glad."  Is  it  not  strange 
that  such  a  man  should  cast  off  the  idolatry  which 
was  *'  pressed  upon  him  with  all  the  power  of  associ- 
ation and  authority,"  and  grasp  the  doctrine  of  one 
spiritual  God,  at  whose  commands  and  promises  he 
forsakes  the  home  of  his  fathers,  and  binds  the  son  of 
his  hopes  to  the  sacrificial  altar  ?  Will  anything  but 
a  sense  of  reality  in  unseen  things  send  a  man  along 
such  paths  ?  And  when  we  get  into  the  region  of  the 
Christian  heroes,  we  find  the  realization  of  the  unseen 
world,  and  the  sense  of  its  power  surprisingly  intense 
and  vivid.  When  a  man  can  say,  **  For  me  to  live  is 
Christ :"  **To  depart  from  this  life  and  to  be  with 
Christ  is  far  better:"  '' My  citizenship  is  in  Heav- 
en." "  I  walk  by  faith,  not  by  sight : "  ''The  things 
which  are  seen  are  temporal^  but  the  things  which  are 
not  seen  are  eternal " — it  shows  that  the  unseen,  spir- 
itual world  is  far  other  than  a  matter  of  guess,  or 
even  of  mere  intellectual  faith  to  him.  It  is  the  very 
element  in  which  he  lives.  He  believes  in  it  in  such 
a  way  as  that  it  has  practical  power  over  him,  shapes 
him,  controls  him,  makes  him,  in  short,  whatever  he 
is  in  every  relation.     Men  cannot  be,  as  in  the  record 


Seeing  the  Invisible,  7 

of  this  chapter,  stoned,  sawn  asunder,  destitute,  af- 
flicted, tormented,  for  the  sake  of  One  whom  they 
have  never  seen,  and  of  ti-uths  which  get  all  their 
meaning  from  His  person,  without  a  very  distinct  and 
powerful  sense  of  the  7'eality  of  such  a  Being  and  of 
the  practical  bearing  of  such  truths. 

The  Bible  gives  us  these  facts  ;  but  is  the  Bible  a 
book  for  to-day's  living  ?  Is  the  Bible  the  only  infal- 
lible rule  of  faith  and  practice  ?  Do  we  believe  this  ? 
If  we  do,  how  can  we  escape  the  conclusion  that  this 
clear  seeing  and  realizing  of  the  unseen,  this  con- 
stant, direct  bearing  of  the  unseen  world  upon  life, 
plans,  hopes,  is  commended  to  us^  no  less  than  to  the 
men  of  older  time  ?  Is  there  any  reason  why  Enoch's 
walk  with  the  invisible  God,  and  Abraham's  faith  in 
the  invisible  God,  should  be  to  us  mere  matters  of 
admiring  allusion  ?  Or  do  we  admit  that  Abraham's 
faith  may,  and  ought  to  be  reproduced,  yea,  im- 
proved upon  in  our  lives  ?  Moses  saw  Him  who  is 
invisible.  Is  that  fact  stated  in  order  to  show  us  how 
much  greater  Moses'  privilege  was  than  ours,  or  is  it 
the  statement  of  our  privilege  to  see  as  much  if  not 
more  than  Moses  ? 

If  the  Bible  is  the  manual  of  living  for  you  and  me, 
we  are  shut  up  to  the  answer  that  the  unseen  world 
ought  to  be  to  us  all  that  it  ever  was  to  the  men  of 
whom  it  tells  us.  If  it  was  real  to  thetn^  it  should  be 
real  to  us.  If  it  imposed  obligations,  and  gave  direc- 
tions, and  ministered  warning  and  comfort  and  hope 
to  them,  we  are  bound  to  look  to  it  for  the  same  things; 
because,  if  the  Bible  does  not  mean  this,  it  means 


8  Faith  and  Character, 

nothing  whatever.  The  Bible,  from  beginning  to  end, 
is  concerned  with  the  establishment  of  an  effective 
connection  between  the  seen  and  the  unseen  worlds  ; 
with  bringing  the  things  of  sense  under  the  dominion 
of  the  unseen,  and  with  teaching  us  that  this  unseen 
world  is  the  great,  dominant  fact,  not  only  of  the  fu- 
ture, but  of  the  present. 

Thus  we  get  down  to  the  very  practical  question : 
Is  the  unseen  world  to  us  what  it  was  to  the  men  of 
the  Bible  ?  Do  we  look  back  with  envy  and  with 
longing  to  Jacob's  dream  at  Bethel  and  to  his  wrestle 
at  Jabbok,  to  Moses  on  Sinai,  to  Elijah  on  Horeb, 
and  feel  that  the  present  has  robbed  us  of  something 
which  brought  Heaven  nearer  to  them  ?  Do  we  live 
as  though  we  saw  Him  who  is  invisible,  and  as  if  the 
things  of  the  unseen  world  were  substance  and  not 
shadow  ? 

Understand  me,  I  am  not  asking  now  whether  we 
believe  that  there  is  a  Heaven  and  a  Hell ;  a  God,  a 
special  providence.  If  it  is  a  matter  of  vital  impor- 
tance what  a  man  believes,  it  is  a  matter  of  no  less 
moment  ho7v  he  believes  it,  and  what  are  the  applica- 
tions of  his  belief.  I  may  fully  believe  in  the  elec- 
tric telegraph,  for  instance.  I  may  be  able  to  give  a 
perfectly  correct  and  intelligible  explanation  of  its 
principle  and  working.  I  may  have  a  telegraphic 
apparatus  set  up  in  my  room,  with  its  batteries  in 
good  working  order,  and  yet  I  may  make  no  connec- 
tions with  anything  outside,  but  may  simply  keep 
the  polished  machine  ticking  away  without  sending 
a  message  to  a  soul  under  the  sun.     Just  so,  it  is  en- 


Seeing  the  Invisible.  o 

tirely  possible  for  one  to  believe  every  essential  truth 
of  the  spiritual  world,  and  yet  never  give  his  belief  a 
vital  contact  anywhere  with  his  practical  life.     And 
it  is  that  contact  which  is  the  important  thing.     The 
power  of  faith  in  the  unseen  upon  the  regulation  of 
what  is  seen  ;  the  depth  and  sharpness  of  the  stamp 
of  the  invisible  upon  the  visible,  is  the  true  measure 
of  our  faith.     You  believe  in  God's  being  and  attri- 
butes.    Do  those  attributes  make  your  life  any  bet- 
ter, or  larger,  or  happier  ?    You  believe  that  there  is 
an  invisible  world.     What  character  does  it  set  upon 
you  ?     To  what  degree  do  you  live  in  its  atmosphere  ? 
You  believe  that  the  unseen  imposes  laws  upon  our 
life.     Do  you  keep  those  laws  .^     You  believe  that  in- 
fluences go  forth  from  that  invisible  realm.     Do  you 
give  yourself  up  to  them  ?     The  unseen   realm  is  a 
kingdom.     Do  you  live  in  it  as  a  subject  ?     It  is  a 
kingdom  not  of  this  world.     Are  you  of  the  world  or 
not  of  it.?     Is  the  whole  array  of  heavenly  intelli- 
gences, facts,  and  laws,  to  you  and  to  me  like  the 
far-off  light  of  distant  auroras,  on  whose  cold  splen- 
dors we  merely  gaze,  which  measure  for  us  no  times 
and  seasons  and  send  forth  no  warmth,— or  are  they 
as  the  sun  in  heaven,  quickening  and  fructifying  our 
lives  ?    These  are  questions  without  the  right  answer 
to  which  it  matters  little  how  correctly  we  can  say 
our  catechisms,  or  how  orthodox  are  our  systems  of 
faith. 

So,  then,  I  repeat  my  question.  How  real  a  thing 
is  the  unseen  world  to  us  ?  How  much  will  we  do 
under  its  power?     How  much  will  we   bear 7     How 


lO  Faith  and  Character. 

much  will  we  renounce  1  How  much  does  it  restrain 
us  ?  How  much  will  we  do  and  suffer  to  win  its  re- 
wards ?  How  much  afraid  are  we  of  its  retributions  ? 
One  thing  is  certain,  either  it  is  or  it  is  not  real.  If 
it  is,  in  the  very  nature  of  the  case  it  must  be  a  tre- 
me?idous  reality,  and  the  absence  of  the  sense  of  its 
realness  from  any  life  is  the  most  tremendous  defect 
which  it  is  possible  to  conceive. 

Let  us  bring  the  matter  to  some  practical  tests. 
There,  for  instance,  is  the  substance  of  belief — what  we 
call  doctrine.  I  do  not  think  that  the  positive  disbe- 
lief of  people  in  the  doctrines  of  the  Bible  is  as  re- 
markable or  as  dangerous  as  the  perfect  tranquillity 
with  which  they  settle  down  upon  the  conclusion 
that  it  is  quite  indifferent  what  they  believe.  In  any- 
thing which  they  are  convinced  is  real,  they  show 
that  they  think  it  of  very  great  consequence  what 
they  believe,  and  are  at  great  pains  to  form  an  intel- 
ligent belief.  If,  for  example,  a  capitalist  holds  five 
thousand  shares  of  a  certain  stock,  that  is  a  very 
real  thing  to  him.  It  represents  so  much  capital. 
If  he  believes  that  the  stock  is  selling  at  a  premium 
when  it  is  already  below  par  and  is  daily  going  down, 
he  knows  very  well  that  that  belief,  however  sin- 
cere, will  make  a  very  appreciable  difference  in  his 
income.  So  he  is  careful  not  to  be  betrayed  into  any 
wrong  belief  on  the  subject.  Every  fact  which  can 
help  him  to  form  a  right  belief  is  diligently  sought 
out,  and  carefully  weighed  and  studied.  Yet  often 
the  very  same  man,  if  asked  his  belief  respecting  the 
great  principles  of  religion,  would  say :  *'  Well,  I  don't 


Seeing  the  Invisible..  \\ 

know,  I  have  not  given  much  thought  to  such  things. 
It  is  a  matter  of  a  good  deal  of  uncertainty,  any  way ; 
and  if  I  try  to  do  about  right,  I  don't  know  that  it 
makes  much  difference  what  I  believe."  Scores  of 
people  who  do  not  say  this  in  so  many  words,  say 
the  same  thing  by  their  lives  ;  and  that  thing  means 
that  the  question  whether  the  world  and  society  are 
moved  by  blind  chance  or  guided  by  a  loving  Father 
in  Heaven  ;  whether  they  themselves  are  to  live  after 
this  life  or  to  return  to  the  dust ;  whether 

**we  fare 

As  summer  gusts,  of  sudden  birth  and  doom, 
Whose  sound  and  motion  not  alone  declare. 
But  are  their  whole  of  being ;  " 

where  they  are  going  to  be  when  buying  and  sell- 
ing  and  laughter  and  feasting  shall  be  over  forever ; 
whether  there  is  any  answer  beyond  the  grave  to  the 
questioning  of  their  lonely  hearts  about  their  dead— 
they  say  the  answer  to  such  questions  is  a  matter  of 
indifference,  and  they  are  easily  content  to  have  the 
days  slip  away,  leaving  them  unsettled.  Do  you  not 
see  that  the  radical  defect  with  such  is  that  the  spirit- 
ual world  has  no  r^^^m— practically,  no  existence  for 
them?  How  well  has  Pascal  said  of  such,  *'The 
only  shame  is  that  there  is  no  shame.  Nothing 
shows  more  an  extreme  weakness  of  mind  than  to 
know  not  what  is  the  unhappiness  of  a  mind  without 
God  ;  nothing  indicates  more  a  bad  disposition  of 
heart  than  not  to  desire  the  truth  of  eternal  prom- 
ises ;  nothing  is  more  cowardly  than  to  brave  God. 


12  Faith  and  Character. 

There  are  but  two  sorts  of  persons  who  can  be  called 
rational  :  either  those  that  serve  God  with  all  their 
heart,  because  they  know  Him  ;  or  those  that  seek 
Him  with  all  their  heart,  because  they  do  not  know 
Him." 

Or,  consider  the  way  in  which  the  Scriptures  affect 
people.  Remember,  that  if  the  Bible  is  not  the  reve- 
lation of  the  laws  and  forces  of  the  spiritual  world, 
and  of  the  thought  and  feeling  of  its  intelligences,  it  is 
nothing.  But  it  is  more  than  we  sometimes  suspect, 
to  love  and  to  trust  the  Bible  as  such  a  revelation. 
Some  of  you  remember  the  first  letter  which  came  to 
you  from  home,  while  you  were  in  the  first  homesick- 
ness of  your  school  life.  How  you  read  it  and  re- 
read it,  and  stole  looks  at  it  in  lesson  time,  and  went 
away  into  quiet  places  to  brood,  and  perchance  to 
w^eep  over  its  love-laden  lines.  And  why  ?  Because 
it  came  from  a  place  which  was  the  dearest  reality  of 
your  existence.  Because  it  told  of  persons  and  facts 
w^hich  formed  your  little  world.  Because  it  bore  ad- 
monitions from  those  whose  word  gave  the  law  to 
your  life,  and  praises  from  those  whose  approval  was 
your  most  coveted  prize.  Is  the  Bible  any  such 
thing  as  that  to  us  ?  And  observe,  that  one  may  be 
honestly  interested  in  the  Bible  without  having  any 
such  feeling  as  this.  A  poet  may  enjoy  the  poetry 
of  Isaiah  or  of  Job.  An  historian  may  become  ab- 
sorbed in  Kings  or  Chronicles  as  illustrating  secular 
history.  A  philosopher  may  study  the  character  of 
Christ  as  a  moral  phenomenon.  All  these,  good 
things  though  they  are,  yet  attach,  if  I  may  so  speak, 


Seeing  the  htvisible.  13 

to  the  outside  of  the  Bible.  But  it  is  a  different 
matter  when  one  loves  the  Bible  as  a  message  from 
home  ;  when  he  reads  it  as  a  traveller  does  his  guide- 
book in  a  strange  city,  and  studies  it  as  a  sailor  stud- 
ies his  chart  on  a  dangerous  coast ;  when  he  delights 
in  it  as  the  voice  of  the  Father  whom  he  loves,  of  the 
Savior  in  whom  he  trusts,  as  the  manual  of  that 
kingdom  to  which  his  loyalty  is  pledged.  You  go 
into  the  cabin  of  a  mountaineer  in  some  wild  region, 
and  hanging  up  against  the  wall  is  an  old  lantern. 
Something  peculiar  in  its  shape  or  make  attracts 
your  attention  for  a  moment,  and  you  are  turning 
away,  when  the  mountaineer  says  to  you  :  **  I  have 
no  better  friend  than  that  old  lantern.  Many  a  star- 
less night,  when  I  have  been  among  the  ravines  and 
precipices,  climbing  the  crags,  or  threading  the  nar- 
row sheep-paths,  I  should  have  been  lost  but  for  the 
spark  which  it  kept  from  the  boisterous  wind.  And 
just  so,  when  we  shall  have  begun  to  realize  that  the 
world  is  a  dangerous  place,  that  the  journey  to  heaven 
lies  amid  rocks  and  pitfalls,  and  that  light  from  heaven 
is  indispensable  to  safe  walking  ;  when  we  shall  have 
laid  up  the  memories  of  a  few  dark,  tempestuous 
seasons,  out  of  which  only  our  Bibles  saved  us,  we 
shall  know  what  the  Psalmist  meant  when  he  said  : 
*'  Thy  word  is  a  lamp  unto  my  feet  and  a  light  unto 
my  path." 

Once  more,  look  at  prayer.  It  is  not  wonderful 
that  men  are  skeptical  about  communication  with 
the  unseen  world  when  they  view  prayer  from  with- 
out, as   a   phenomenon   to   be  weighed  in  material 


1 4  Faith  and  Character. 

balances  and  tried  by  mechanical  tests.  No  wonder 
the  invisible  world  is  unreal  to  them.  He  who 
knows  prayer  as  an  experience^  from  within  the  circle 
of  communion  with  God,  who  lingers  in  that  heaven- 
ly atmosphere,  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible,  asking 
and  receiving,  feeling  his  burdens  drop  off  and  his 
strength  renew  itself — can  afford  to  smile  at  the 
bustling  philosopher  outside,  knitting  his  brows  over 
the  question  whether  man  can  ask  and  receive  from 
God.  If  I  want  to  satisfy  myself  about  prayer,  I 
shall  not  run  to  the  manufacturers  of  prayer-tests. 
Rather  will  I  go  and  stand  by  Isaiah  at  the  altar, 
while  the  posts  of  the  door  move  at  the  voice  of  him 
that  cries,  and  the  live  coal  is  laid  by  angel  hands  on 
the  suppliant  prophet's  lips.  Rather  will  I  bow  be- 
side Elijah  on  Carmel,  while  his  own  life  and  the 
honor  of  Israel,  hang  on  the  issue  of  his  prayer. 
Rather  will  I  seek  the  chamber  where  Luther,  pros- 
trate before  God,  pleads  for  courage  to  stand  for  His 
truth  before  kings  and  potentates.  In  such  scenes 
we  learn  how  real  the  unseen  world  is  to  men.  We 
see  how  they  depend  upon  it ;  what  kind  of  help  they 
seek  from  it  ;  what  terrible  issues  they  stake  on  its 
responses  ;  and  how  real  and  how  mighty  are  the 
aids  and  comforts  which  come  from  it  to  them.  The 
difference  between  such  men's  view  of  prayer  and  his 
who  merely  studies  prayer  as  a  phenomenon,  is  the 
difference  between  him  who  stands  in  the  telegraph 
office,  studying  the  machinery,  and  asking  about  the 
connections  of  the  wires,  and  him  whose  wife  or  child 
is  in  deadly  peril  in  a  distant  city,  and  who  leans 


Seeing  the  Invisible.  15 

over  the  operator's  shoulder  with  set  lips  and  strain- 
ing eyes,  as  the  ticking  instrument  resolves  or  deep- 
ens his  agony  of  suspense. 

You  see  the  same  thing  in  times  of  sorrow.  You 
remember  how,  some  years  ago,  the  first  Atlantic 
cable,  which  had  lain  broken  in  mid-ocean  for  nearly 
two  years,  was  raised  and  repaired.  From  the  mo- 
ment that  the  telegraphic  squadron  set  sail,  an  opera- 
tor sat,  night  and  day,  at  the  European  terminus, 
watching  for  signals.  He  told  afterwards  a  weird 
story.  Long  before  the  grappling-iron  had  found  it, 
the  parted  cable,  under  the  power  of  mysterious  elec- 
tric currents,  was  writing  grotesque  signs  and  combi- 
nations with  the  sensitive  indicator,  sometimes  even 
forming  unmeaning  sentences,  as  if  the  old  sea  were 
struggling  to  unbosom  its  awful  secrets.  At  last  the 
pencil  of  light  moved  as  in  the  hand  of  a  ready 
writer,  and  told  the  joyful  story  of  success.  The 
vague,  stammering  utterances  of  the  sea  were 
changed  into  living  words  of  joy.  Purpose,  knowl- 
edge, will,  were  at  the  other  end  of  the  wire.  Thus  it 
often  is  in  human  experience.  Men  get  down  at 
times  into  depths  where  the  world  of  sense  becomes 
unreal  to  them  through  their  own  misery.  The  in- 
ward life  is  one  wild,  chaotic  waste,  full  of  sighs  and 
murmurs  and  cries  for  light  and  peace.  The  mes- 
sages that  come  from  that  waste  are  as  idle  jargon 
telling  only  of  chance  and  change.  And  when,  under 
such  conditions,  you  find  these  souls  holding  by 
something  unseen,  never  losing  faith  in  Divine  order, 
feeling  the  thrill  of  divine  love  and  comfort  amid  all 


1 6  Faith  and  Character, 

the  confusion,  strengthened  not  only  to  bear  and  to 
work,  but  to  coin  sorrow  into  power,  you  may  be 
sure  that  that  unseen  thing,  whatever  it  is,  is  a  real 
thing  to  them.  You  may  call  it  phantasy,  but  it  is 
none  the  less  true  that  they  endure  as  seeing  the  in- 
visible. And  I  think  we  never  have  so  keen  a  sense 
of  the  realness  of  the  unseen  world,  as  when  we  see 
a  racked,  tempest-beaten  soul  thus  kept  in  perfect 
peace.  The  seen  and  the  unseen  appear  to  have 
changed  places.  The  eyes  of  the  children  of  sorrow 
are  anointed,  and  almost  everything  but  the  unseen 
becomes  unreal.  God  and  Christ,  heavenly  strength, 
the  clasp  of  the  everlasting  arms,  have  become  the 
great  facts  of  that  life. 

I  go  back  to  my  old  question  :  How  real  is  the 
spiritual  world  to  us  ?  What  does  it  stand  for  in 
your  life  and  in  mine  ?  Must  we  wait  until  we  are  in 
the  next  world  to  feel  its  power  and  to  obey  its 
promptings  ?  Or  does  not  the  Apostle  Paul  give  us 
more  than  a  hint  in  those  words  *'  our  citizenship  is 
in  Heaven,"  that  we  may  live  in  this  world  and  in  di- 
rect contact  with  Heaven  at  the  same  time  ?  You 
have  often  marked  a  blind  man  walking  the  streets. 
A  score  of  things  are  going  on  round  him  ;  incidents 
which  draw  the  attention  of  every  eye  are  taking 
place  within  a  few  yards  of  him.  How  sadly  impres- 
sive is  his  entire  unconsciousness  of  it  all!  He  does 
not  bow  his  head  at  the  missile  hurled  by  a  careless 
hand.  He  does  not  check  his  footsteps  at  the  ap- 
proach of  his  dearest  friend.  He  walks  straight  to- 
ward the  yawning  pit   which  workmen  have  opened 


Seeing  the  Invisible,  17 

in  the  street.  Yet  is  this  any  more  sadly  impressive 
than  the  spectacle  of  the  multitudes  who  walk  this 
world  as  if  unconscious  that  there  is  any  other,  blind 
to  the  hints  and  suggestions  and  symbols  and  moni- 
tions which  come  crowding  up  and  compassing  their 
very  path  and  their  lying  down  ?  How  such  must 
appear — yea,  how  many  of  those  who  profess  to  be 
walking  by  faith  in  the  unseen  must  appear  to  the 
tenants  of  the  spiritual  region,  the  cloud  of  wit- 
nesses compassing  this  earthly  sphere  of  ours.  Oh,  if 
our  eyes  were  but  opened,  how  common  things  would 
teem  with  lessons  and  suggestions  of  the  unseen. 
How  often  we  should  see  teachers  where  we  see  but 
stocks  and  stones  ;  how  often  we  should  stand  unshod 
on  ground  which  we  profane  with  careless  feet,  and 
all  along  the  line  of  our  daily  walk  find 

**  Earth  crammed  with  heaven. 
And  every  common  bush  afire  with  God ;  " 

and  how  the  things  which  now  seem  to  us  so  great, 
the  baubles  we  covet,  the  praises  for  which  we  are 
impatient,  the  successes  on  which  we  stake  our  happi- 
ness, the  failures  which  go  well-nigh  to  break  our 
hearts,  would  dwindle  and  fade  in  the  presence  of  the 
tremendous  facts  of  that  vast,  mysterious  realm  which 
we  so  often  treat  as  though  it  had  no  existence.  This 
blindness  is  not  enforced.  We  may  see  if  we  will. 
Thank  God,  the  awful  picture  of  the  German  poet  is 
false  in  every  line,  wherein  he  depicts  the  genera- 
tions of  men  between  the  past  and  the  futare  as  be- 
tween two  black  curtains,  where  they  stand  bearing 


1 8  Faith  and  Character. 

torches,  cheated  now  by  their  own  magnified  shad- 
ows, and  now  by  the  images  which  poets,  statesmen, 
tricksters,  have  drawn  on  the  curtain  of  the  future 
according  to  their  fantastic  humors,  while  no  voice 
comes  out  of  the  darkness  beyond,  but  only  a  hollow 
echo  answers  the  agonized  questioner,  as  when  one 
calls  into  an  abyss.  It  is  false,  I  say.  The  Christian 
knows  what  are  the  powers  of  the  world  to  come. 
The  invisible  world  is  not  silent  to  ears  which  Christ 
has  touched.  It  has  something  besides  fancies  or 
juggleries  for  those  on  whose  eyes  He  has  laid  His 
hand ;  and  such  texts  as  this,  combine  with  myriads 
of  later  testimonies  to  tell  us  how  men  have  stood 
between  the  past  and  the  future  in  good  cheer  and 
in  buoyant  hope,  hearing  real  voices  behind  the  veil, 
and  passing  behind  it  at  last,  not  as  taking  a  leap  in 
the  dark,  but  as  departing  to  be  with  Christ,  which 
is  far  better. 

Young  ladies  of  the  graduating  class,'  it  would  be 
an  ungracious  task  to  attempt  to  throw  a  shadow  over 
the  bright  outlook  upon  which  you  gaze  from  the 
doors  of  this  peaceful  retreat  which  open  now  to  let 
you  out  into  the  world.  For  one,  I  have  no  disposi- 
tion to  undertake  it.  On  the  other  hand,  I  do  most 
confidently  believe  that  in  directing  your  attention 
to  this  theme,  I  am  pointing  out  to  you  the  way  to 
draw  most  brightness  and  sweetness  out  of  the  world  ; 
the  way  to  the  solution  of  some  of  those  problems 

*  This  sermon  was  preached  as  a  baccalaureate  to  the  graduating 
class  of  Packer  Institute,  Brooklyn,  1878. 


Seeing  the  Invisible,  19 

which  so  often  embitter  life  and  blight  hope.  If  the 
subject  seems  a  grave  one,  its  selection  is  justified  by 
the  fact  that  the  view  which  you  shall  take  of  it  and 
shall  carry  out  into  practice,  will  determine  the  char- 
acter of  your  life  and  the  character  of  your  destiny. 

This  issue  confronts  you  at  the  commencement  of 
your  career,  the  issue  between  the  claims  of  the  seen 
and  of  the  unseen.  It  will  be  well  for  you  to  face  it 
decisively  and  intelligently.  The  world  has  changed 
in  many  things,  but  it  is  the  same  old  world  in  stoutly 
maintaining  the  superior  authority  of  that  which  is 
seen,  as  against  that  which  is  apprehended  by  the 
spiritual  sense.  It  comes  to  meet  you  with  tangible 
pleasures  and  rewards  ;  with  its  own  debased  stand- 
ards of  right  and  wrong  ;  substituting  pleasure  for 
duty,  and  what  is  tasteful  for  what  is  right.  Inno- 
cent though  you  may  be  of  metaphysics,  the  cold 
materialism  of  its  so-called  ''advanced  thought"  will 
find  its  way  to  you  as  surely  as  the  tide  works  up 
into  the  little  creeks  and  inlets  far  back  from  the 
shores,  and  with  its  subtle  touch  will  seek  to  par- 
alyze the  faith  which  lays  hold  on  the  unseen 
world.  And  your  only  safeguard  will  be  the  convic- 
tion, firmly  rooted  in  your  hearts,  and  faithfully  acted 
out  in  your  lives,  that  you  are  the  subjects  of  an  in- 
visible kingdom,  of  which  God  is  the  king  ;  that  that 
realm,  which  includes  Christ  and  duty  and  spiritual 
communion,  is  appointed  for  your  daily  dwelling- 
place,  and  that  your  first  and  highest  allegiance  is 
due  there. 

Some  of  you  are  familiar  with  that  beautiful  scene 


20  Faith  and  Character. 

in  Schiller's  drama  of  Wallenstein,  where  a  maiden 
timidly  enters  the  chamber  of  her  father's  astrologer, 
and  finds  herself  in  a  circle  of  colossal  statues,  kingly 
forms  representing  the  planets. 

**  Each  one  in  his  hand 
A  sceptre  bore,  and  on  his  head  a  star  ; 
And  in  the  tower  no  other  light  was  there 
But  from  these  stars :  all  seemed  to  come  from  them." 

Thus  they  stood  in  their  silent  majesty,  telling  her 
of  the  power  of  the  heavenly  intelligences  in  shaping 
human  fates,  and  appealing  to  her  to  seek  to  learn 
her  destiny  at  their  hands.  So  I  would  fain  think  of 
you  ere  you  go  forth  into  the  bright  sunshine  of 
"that  new  world  which  is  the  old,"  turning  aside  to 
the  circle  of 

**  The  great  intelligences  fair, 
That  range  above  our  mortal  state  ;'* 

and  seeing  only  by  the  "great  light  which  lighteth 
every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world,"  ask  there  to 
have  the  lines  of  your  destiny  drawn,  and  come  forth 
leaving  it  in  Christ's  keeping  forever.  Those  lines 
w^ill  lead  you  away  from  much  which  the  world  calls 
success.  You  will  follow  them  down  to  many  a  low 
place,  where  tears  are  shed,  and  weak  and  helpless 
hands  are  stretched  forth  in  mute  appeal,  and  whither 
the  world  will  not  follow  to  minister  to  you  ;  but 
when  you  shall  find  yourself  working  side  by  side 
with  Him  who  came  to  minister,  you  will  find  your- 
self in  the  ranks  of  the  givers  and  not  of  the  receiv- 


Seeing  the  Invisible.  2i 

ers.  You  will  be  led  in  paths  of  sacrifice,  where  you 
shall  find  your  highest  joy  in  duty,  your  sweetest 
rest  in  bearing  Christ's  yoke  and  burden,  your  abid- 
ing comfort  in  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible.  Your 
whole  education  will  have  been  to  little  purpose,  if, 
with  all  your  mental  discipline  and  trained  percep- 
tion, your  spiritual  sense  shall  not  have  been  sharp- 
ened to  look  straight  through  the  glamour  and  mir- 
age of  this  world  to  the  things  which  are  real  to  God 
and  to  angels.  I  can  ask  no  better  thing  for  you 
than  thus  to  walk  under  a  constant  sense  of  the 
power  and  reality  of  the  unseen  world  ;  no  better 
thing  than  that  which  was  said  of  that  old,  old  saint 
who  passed  to  heaven  by  a  gate  unknown  to  other 
men  :  '*  He  walked  with  God,  and  he  was  not,  for 
God  took  him." 


"BECAUSE    OF    HIS    IMPOR- 
TUNITY." 


LUKE  XI. 

(5)  And  he  said  unto  them,  Which  of  you  shall  have  a  friend, 

and  shall  go  unto  him  at  midnight,  and  say  unto  him, 
Friend,  lend  me  three  loaves  ; 

(6)  For  a  friend  of  mine  in  his  journey  is  come  to  me,  and  I 

have  nothing  to  set  before  him  : 

(7)  And  he  from  within  shall  answer  and  say,  Trouble   me 

not :  the  door  is  now  shut,  and  my  children  are  with  me 
in  bed ;  I  cannot  rise  and  give  thee. 

(8)  I  say  unto  you.  Though  he  will  not  rise  and  give  him 

because  he  is  his  friend,  yet  because  of  his  importunity^ 
he  will  rise  and  give  him  as  many  as  he  needeth." 


11. 

"BECAUSE   OF   HIS  IMPORTUNITY." 

''Lord,  teach  us  to  pray."  This  was  the  request 
which  drew  from  Christ  that  wonderful  answer  of 
which  this  parable  forms  a  part ;  and  surely,  even  the 
disciples  who  made  the  request  could  never  have 
dreamed  of  the  depth  of  their  own  ignorance  of  this 
subject,  until  they  saw  how  it  unfolded  under  Christ's 
touch.  It  is  worth  a  thought  whether  we,  at  this 
late  time,  have  gotten  all  the  beauty  and  fragrance 
out  of  that  perfect  flower  of  the  life  of  Jesus — the 
Lord's  prayer.  This,  however,  was  but  the  first  part 
of  the  answer  to  the  disciples'  request.  While  this 
conveyed  to  them  the  mode  of  prayer,  it  remained  to 
inform  them  concerning  the  spirit  of  prayer,  and  this 
Our  Lord  does  through  the  parable  of  our  text. 

Like  all  such  utterances  of  Christ,  this  draws  its 
material  from  the  ordinary  life  and  incidents  of  the 
time.  The  deep  stillness  which  settles  upon  an  East- 
ern city  soon  after  nightfall,  is  broken  by  the  urgent 
call  of  a  man  under  a  neighbor's  window.  "  Friend  ! 
friend  !  !  Lend  me  three  loaves  !  A  guest  has  ar- 
rived at  my  house."  Not  a  strange  occurrence  in  the 
East,  where  so  many  travel  in  the  night  to  avoid  the 
burning  heat  of  the   day.     "  Friend,  lend  me  three 


26  FaitJi  and  Character. 

loaves.  My  guest  has  taken  me  unawares.  He  is  a 
hungry  traveller.  My  larder  is  empty,  I  have  noth- 
ins:  to  set  before  him."  And  the  answer  is  that  of  a 
man  who  cares  chiefly  for  his  own  comfort ;  a  churl- 
ish answer  enough:  "Trouble  me  not.  My  door  is 
shut  and  bolted.  The  household  have  gone  to  rest. 
I  cannot  rise  and  give  thee."  But  the  applicant  is 
not  so  easily  disposed  of.  The  ungracious  neighbor  is 
not  to  be  left  so  comfortably  to  his  rest.  Hardly  has 
he  settled  himself  on  his  couch  when  the  knock  at 
the  door  comes  again,  and  the  call  is  repeated  ;  and 
again  and  again,  until,  for  very  peace's  sake,  he  is  con- 
strained to  rise  and  give  his  persistent  ^neighbor  what 
he  wants.  "  Though  he  will  not  rise  and  give  him 
because  he  is  his  friend^  yet  because  of  his  i?nJ>o?'t  unity, 
he  will  rise  and  give  him  as  many  as  he  needeth." 
Then  follows  the  Lord's  application:  ''When  ye 
pray,  go  thus  to  God's  door,  in  dead  earnest,  like  the 
importunate  friend.  Ask,  seek,  knock.  Ye  shall  re- 
ceive, ye  shall  find,  the  door  shall  be  opened."  This 
is  the  great  lesson  of  the  parable.      God   urges  us 

TO    BE    URGENT    WITH    HiM. 

Let  us  observe,  before  we  go  further,  that  this  para- 
ble does  not  teach  that  we  can  get  anything  we  want 
from  God,  if  we  are  only  persistent  enough.  The  par- 
able is  to  be  read  in  the  light  of  the  Lord's  prayer 
which  precedes  it.  It  is  as  if  Christ  had  said  :  ''  After 
this  manner  pray.  Let  your  petitions  breathe  such 
needs  as  are  expressed  in  this  form  of  prayer  ;  and 
when  ye  pray  thus,  asking  for  that  w^hich  God  him- 
self bids  you  ask,  then  pray  with  assurance  and  with 


^^  Because  of  his  Importimityy  27. 

persistence."  When  a  man's  petition  falls  within  the 
circle  of  the  Lord's  prayer,  he  is  like  one  who  has 
the  written  credentials  of  a  king,  entitling  him  to 
admission  to  his  palace  and  person.  The  lackeys  at 
the  gate  may  repulse  and  mock  him,  he  cannot  be 
driven  away.  He  comes  back  after  every  repulse, 
ho].ding  forth  the  signature  of  his  sovereign,  until  he 
makes  his  way  within. 

And  it  is  also  worth  noting  how  strongly  our  Lord 
puts  this  duty  of  earnestness  in  prayer  by  the  very 
word  which  he  uses.  "  Importunity"  does  not  begin 
to  convey  the  force  of  it.  Literally  the  word  is 
shamelessness :  impudence :  and  in  the  parallel  parable 
of  the  unjust  judge,  to  which  I  shall  have  occasion  to 
refer  more  than  once,  the  judge  uses  the  same  word 
which  Paul  afterwards  employs  to  express  the  keeping 
his  body  in  subjection — the  boxer's  word — to  strike 
under  the  eye,  so  that  his  words,  literally  rendered, 
would  run  thus  :  "  Because  this  widow  troubleth  me 
I  will  avenge  her,  lest,  by  her  continual  coming  she 
beat  me  black  and  blue."  I  never  get  this  idea  so 
clearly  before  me  as  in  reading  that  story  of  Abra- 
ham's intercession  for  Sodom.  I  never  can  prevent 
that  sense  of  iinpudence  coming  uppermost  as  I  follow 
the  patriarch  through  his  plea  for  that  horrible  moral 
cesspool,  Sodom,  and  hear  him  beating  down  from 
fifty  to  ten.  Almost  anybody  but  Abraham  would 
have  thought  God's  proposal  to  save  the  city  for 
the  sake  of  fifty  righteous  men,  a  wonderful  stretch 
of  Divine  mercy.  On  ordinary  principles  of  justice 
Abraham  had  no  case  at  all ;  and  yet  every  concession 


28  Faith  and  Character, 

only  encourages  him  to  venture  farther,  until  one 
fairly  blushes  for  him,  and  wonders  how  he  can  have 
the  face  to  ask  again.  But  this  is  the  spirit  which 
God  encourages  in  His  children  when  they  pray.  He 
does  not  think  of  it  as  impudence.  He  only  uses  the 
invidious  word  to  convey  to  us  more  forcibly  the  holy 
boldness  of  faith.  To  Him,  the  real  shamelessness  is, 
when  His  own  dear  children,  purchased  with  the 
blood  of  His  son,  and  with  His  offer  in  their  hands  to 
give  them  all  things  freely  with  Him,  make  meagre 
requests,  and  come  to  His  throne  like  trembling  beg- 
gars and  not  like  the  children  of  a  king. 

The  question  will  at  once  arise  then,  why  is  God, 
if  He  is  so  gracious,  represented  under  the  figure  of 
a  churlish  person  :  of  one  who  refuses  to  put  himself 
to  a  little  inconvenience  for  a  friend's  sake  ;  or,  as 
in  the  other  parable,  to  an  unrighteous  judge  who 
grants  a  request  merely  to  save  himself  trouble  ? 
Does  not  this  look  rather  as  if  prayer  had  some  re- 
luctance on  God's  part  to  overcome  ? 

I  reply,  no.  The  contrary  is  the  truth.  In  the  first 
place,  such  an  assumption  is  squarely  in  the  face  of 
Scripture,  which  everywhere  emphasizes  God's  will- 
ingness to  give  good  gifts  to  His  children.  Men  are 
urged  to  ask,  to  ask  large  things,  and  are  told  that 
whatsoever  they  ask  in  Christ's  name  they  shall  re- 
ceive. And  this  is  just  what  the  illustration  of  the 
parable  is  intended  to  convey.  The  course  of  reason- 
ing is  from  the  worse  to  the  better.  The  argument 
lies  thus  :  If  a  churlish  man  can  be  prevailed  on  by 
the  importunity  of  a  neighbor,  to  give  him  bread  at 


''Because  of  his  Importunity'''  29 

an  unseasonable  time,  how  much  more  will  a  gracious 
Father  listen  to  the  request  of  His  own  child  who 
cannot  ask  unseasonably,  because  He  has  told  him  to 
pray  always.  If  an  unrighteous  judge  can  be  over- 
come by  the  petition  of  a  stranger,  coming  in  the  way 
of  business,  and  besieging  him  with  importunity  which 
he  hates,  shall  not  the  righteous  Judge  of  all  the  earth 
listen  to  the  cry  of  His  own  chosen  in  the  prayer  which 
He  loves  to  hear  ?  So,  the  more  ill-natured  the  neigh- 
bor, the  more  unjust  the  judge,  if  importunity  can 
prevail  with  them,  so  much  the  stronger  is  the  argu- 
ment for  its  success  with  a  just  and  loving  Father  in 
Heaven. 

Why,  then,  the  importunity  at  God's  gate  at  all  ? 
What  place  is  there  for  urgency  and  persistence  if 
God's  willingness  to  give  is  perfect,  and  God's  sure 
promise  to  give  on  record  ?  Why  not  simply  ask  and 
receive  ? 

Simply  because  man's  apprehension  of  that  will- 
ingness and  faith  in  that  promise  are  not  perfect.  If 
they  were,  there  would  be  nothing  in  the  kingdom  of 
grace  but  this  sweet,  calm  interchange  of  asking  and 
receiving,  and  the  consequent  fulness  of  joy.  But 
even  God's  children  are  not  always  well  acquainted 
with  Him  ;  and  prayer  is  the  great  means  of  getting 
acquainted  with  Him  and  of  getting  hold  of  the  deep, 
rare  meaning  of  those  precious  words,  ''  Our  Father." 
When  a  man  once  practically  understands  those  words 
throughout,  (and  he  never  can  vmderstand  them 
otherwise  than  practically,)  he  has  the  answer  to  the 
central  petition  of  the  Lord's  prayer.     For  him  the 


30  Faith  and  Character. 

kingdom  is  already  come.  He  dwells  in  God  and 
God  in  him,  and  abiding  in  God,  he  asks  what  he 
will,  and  it  is  done.  Prayer,  I  repeat,  is  a  means  to 
this  consummation.  It  is  the  arena  where  God  dis- 
ciplines man's  faith  so  that  he  may  know  and  believe 
the  love  which  God  hath  toward  him.  And,  there- 
fore, God  sometimes  seems  to  a  weak  faith  to  imitate 
the  churlishness  of  the  neighbor  and  the  injustice  of 
the  judge.  He  delays  His  answer  when  His  children 
cry.  The  judge  does  not  move  to  vindicate.  The 
door  does  not  open.  The  hand  with  the  loaves  is 
not  thrust  out.  And  faith,  as  it  stands  waiting  be- 
fore the  closed  door,  must  needs  summon  up  its  per- 
sistence. It  must  refresh  its  memory  with  the  ex- 
ceeding great  and  precious  promises  ;  it  must  push 
away  rising  doubts,  and  crowd  down  impatience,  and 
hold  fast  to  God's  faithfulness  through  all  His  delays. 
God  knows  very  well  that,  in  such  a  contest,  faith  not 
only  prevails  finally,  but  grows  stronger.  Hence  He 
often  sends  the  untimely  guest  in  the  hours  of  dark- 
ness, forcino:  his  householder  to  rise  and  seek  the 
bread  of  heaven,  and  then  hiding  Himself  in  clouds 
and  darkness.  And  in  this  He  deals  very  much  as 
you  do  when  you  hold  your  little  child  upon  your 
knee,  and  lift  above  his  head  the  toy  he  desires,  and 
hold  it  for  a  while  out  of  reach  of  his  hand  ;  and  that 
not  to  tantalize  him,  but  to  train  his  eye,  and  to 
teach  him  the  use  of  his  hands,  and  to  exercise  his 
limbs.  And  so  when  God  hides  Himself  from  His 
child,  it  is  that  faith,  stimulated  by  difficulty,  may 
forget  its  fear,  and  breathe  itself  out  in  mighty  ur- 


''Because  of  his  Importunity ^  l\ 

gency,  and  stay  at  the  mercy-seat  until  divine  love 
rise  and  reveal  its  beaming  face  at  the  open  door 
and  bid  the  suppliant  come  in  and  help  himself. 
There  is  nothing  which  delights  God  more  than  such 
a  faith  in  His  goodness  and  love  and  power,  as  will 
persist  in  large  demands  upon  these  ;  yea,  increase  its 
demands  in  the  face  of  obstacles.  He  loves  to  hear 
men  assert  that  faith  in  prayer.  He  smiles,  amid  the 
clouds  and  darkness  which  are  round  about  Him,  to 
hear  the  feet  of  faith  coming  steadily  up  the  hill  diffi- 
culty, never  slackening  its  pace,  but  strong  and  ex- 
ultant in  the  knowledge  of  light  above  the  clouds. 

There  was  that  Syrophoenician  woman  who  came  to 
Jesus  asking  him  to  cast  the  devil  out  of  her  daugh- 
ter. If  you  have  seen  a  mother  meet  a  physician  as 
he  came  into  the  room  where  her  child  hung  between 
life  and  death,  you  can  get  some  faint  sense  of  the 
agony  of  that  Greek  mother's  plea  for  her  tormented 
child.  And  he  answered  her  not  a  word  ;  and  when 
he  did  speak  there  was  no  hope  nor  comfort  in  the 
words,  cold  as  chiselled  marble  :  "  I  am  not  sent  to 
you,  but  to  Israel."  Very  possibly  she  knew  that.  She 
liad  called  him  son  of  David.  There  was  no  answer 
to  that.  He  was  sent  to  the  Jews.  Nothing  for  her 
but  to  clasp  his  feet  in  her  anguish  and  cry  ''  Lord, 
help  me  !  If  not  of  right,  at  least  of  mercy  !  "  And 
I  have  often  wondered  how  the  pitying  tenderness  of 
Christ  pent  itself  up  long  enough  to  utter  that  wither- 
ing reply  :  "  It  is  not  meet  to  take  the  children's 
bread  and  give  it  to  dogs."  But  if  her  faith  had  been 
wavering  before,   that  last  thrust  stung  it  into  full 


32  Faith  and  Character. 

vigor.  She  would  contest  the  day  even  with  the  Son 
of  David.  That  he  had  the  power  she  knew.  She 
would  not  believe  that  he  had  the  heart  to  refuse  her. 
He  had  given  her  an  argument,  and  she  met  him  on 
his  own  terms.  *'  Truth,  Lord,  grant  that  I  am 
not  a  child,  but  only  a  dog  :  I  ask  but  a  dog's  por- 
tion. I  do  not  claim  the  privileges  of  a  daughter  of 
Israel.  I  ask  not  for  the  solid  meat,  nor  for  the 
dainties  of  the  table.  I  take  my  place  among  the 
dogs,  and  I  ask  but  for  my  share  of  the  crumbs  ; 
for  the  dogs  eat  of  the  crumbs  which  fall  from  the 
master's  table."  Christ  was  conquered,  as  he  ex- 
pected and  wanted  to  be.  Hungry  as  she  had  been 
for  sympathy  and  help,  he  had  yearned  still  more  to 
help  her,  and  now  he  gave  his  love  and  power  full 
vent,  and  put  both  at  her  command  :  "Oh,  woman, 
great  is  thy  faith  :  be  it  unto  thee  even  as  thou  wilt." 
Now,  in  the  light  of  this  parable,  we  get  upon  solid 
ground  concerning  that  which  some  are  pleased  to 
call  "wrestling  with  God  in  prayer,"  a  phrase  from 
which  I  confess  that  I  shrink,  and  which  certainly 
conveys  to  many  minds  that  utterly  unscriptural  idea 
of  wresting  something  from  God  by  persistence  and 
struggle.  This  parable  very  plainly  teaches  that  if 
there  is  any  wrestling  at  all,  it  is  not  with  God,  but 
with  things  which  stand  between  us  and  God  :  with 
self,  with  doubt,  with  unbelief,  with  fear,  with  the 
devil.  Whatever  wrestling  there  is,  is  the  vigorous 
effort  of  faith  to  push  through  and  over  these  things 
to  God  ;  and  when  faith  once  gets  there,  it  does  not 
wrestle,  surely.     It  rests.     It  abides  in  God.     It  asks 


^^  Because  of  his  Importunity y  33 

and  receives.  It  is  kept  in  perfect  peace.  An  emi- 
nent minister  in  a  discussion  on  this  subject,  not  long 
ago,  said  :  "  God  puts  His  blessings  high  up,  as  He 
puts  His  choicest  prospects  on  the  top  of  His  Righis 
and  Matterhorns  ;  and  we  must  wrestle  and  climb  be- 
fore we  can  enjoy  them."  I  say  no.  God  puts  His 
choicest  blessings  so  low  down  that  a  little  child's  faith 
can  reach  them.  And  where  we  have  to  climb,  the 
mountains  are  of  our  making,  raised  by  our  worldliness 
and  pride  and  unbelief.  There  is  where  the  wrestling 
comes  in.  Not  w4th  God.  He  keeps  back  nothing. 
When  He  gave  the  world  Jesus  Christ  He  had  nothing 
better  to  give  it,  and  so  He  said,  ^' All  things  are  yours 
with  him — freely."  But  w^e  are  kept  back  because  we 
doubt  this  very  thing,  that  all  things  are  ours  ;  and 
God  sometimes  keeps  us  back  Himself,  so  that  we  may 
overthrow  that  doubt,  and  get  our  foot  on  its  neck, 
and  strangle  it  before  we  go  farther.  Do  not  mistake 
that  for  a  wrestle  with  God.  Once  get  the  doubt  out 
of  the  way,  and  you  will  not  find  God  in  your  way. 

Thus  it  is  only  after  we  have  studied  the  lesson 
of  this  parable  that  we  are  prepared  to  read  intelli- 
gently those  verses  which  follow,  and  which  are  so 
often  quoted  independently.  From  the  parable  they 
flow  naturally  enough.  Such  being  the  power  of 
importunity  with  a  churlish  neighbor,  the  same  ear- 
nestness will  surely  bring  a  gracious  answer  from  a 
gracious  God.  Therefore,  ask,  seek,  knock,  and  ye 
shall  find  a  loving  response.  Why  not  ?  Will  even 
a  human  father  mock  his  son  with  a  stone,  when  he 
asks  for  bread  ?    **  If  ye  then,  being  evil,  know  how  to 


34  Faith  and  Character. 

give  good  gifts  unto  your  children,"  how  much  more 
shall  the  perfect  One,  the  sinless  God,  the  Heavenly 
Father  with  His  all-embracing,  consummate  love, 
give  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  best  of  all  gifts,  and  w^hich 
sums  up  in  itself  all  other  gifts,  to  them  that  ask  Him  ? 
And  when  God  does  answer,  you  observe  that  He 
does  not  confine  His  gift  to  the  strict  limits  of  the 
petition.  When  the  householder  is  once  roused  by 
the  importunity  of  his  neighbor,  he  not  only  gives  him 
the  three  loaves,  for  which  perhaps  he  asked  out  of 
delicacy  as  the  very  least  that  would  suffice,  but  ''as 
many  as  he  needeth  :  "  enough  to  spread  a  bounteous 
repast.  And  when  God  delays  giving,  it  is  not  only 
to  encourage  faith  to  press  for  that  particular  gift,  but 
to  introduce  it  to  a  larger  range  of  gifts  :  to  bring  it 
to  a  better  acquaintance  with  Himself  in  whom  are 
all  gifts.  A  praying  soul,  under  such  circumstances, 
is  like  a  thirsty  man  following  up  the  windings  of  a 
clear  cold  stream,  but  unable  to  get  down  to  the 
w^ater's  edge  because  the  banks  are  so  steep.  He 
walks  mile  after  mile  along  the  precipitous  shores, 
and  the  sun  is  hot,  and  he  is  faint,  and  his  thirst  is 
aggravated  by  the  sparkling  water  below;  but  by 
and  by  he  finds  himself  among  the  springs,  at  the 
source  of  the  stream,  high  up  w^here  the  fountains 
are  sheltered,  and  clear  and  exhaustless,  and  he  bows 
down  and  drinks  his  fill.  God  is  better  than  all  His 
gifts,  and  the  object  of  prayer,  as  has  already  been 
said,  is  to  make  us  acquainted  with  Himself.  Your 
boy  comes  to  you  and  asks  you  to  buy  him  a  fishing- 
rod  ;  and  he  says:  **I  saw  one  to-day  in  a  window, 


*'  Because  of  his  Importunity .''  35 

on  such  a  street,  which  was  just  what  I  want.     Can't 
I  go  down  now  and  buy  it?"     And  you  say,  *' No, 
not  to-day.     Wait  a  little.     You  shall  have  your  rod." 
And  doubtless   the   lad  is  disappointed;    perhaps   a 
little  sullen  for  the  time,  and  a  week  passes  and  he 
hears  nothing  about  his  rod,  and  he  begins  to  say  to 
himself :    ''  I  wonder  if  father  has  not  forgotten  all 
about  it."     Then,  just  at  the  end  of  the  week,  you 
put  into  his  hands  a  better  rod  than  he  has  ever  seen 
before,  and  with  it  a  complete  outfit  for  his  sport, 
and  the  boy  is  overwhelmed  with  surprise  and  pleas- 
ure.    And  yet  the  main  thing  in  all  this  is  not  that 
your  son  has  received  what  he  wanted.     You  meant 
he  should  have  that;  but  the  gift  won,  through  delay, 
has  given  him  a  new  view  of  his  father's  wisdom,  and 
a  new  confidence  in  his  affection,  which  makes  him 
say,  "  Hereafter,  when  I  want  anything  of  this  kind, 
I  will  leave  it  all  to  Father."     That  is  the  great  point 
gained.     And  so  the  main  thing  which  a  man  gains 
when  God  at  last  answers  his  prayer  with  the  gift 
which  he  asked,  is  not  the  gift,  but  the  clearer  con- 
sciousness that  God  is  better  than  His  gifts,  that  he 
has  all  things  in  God.     Thus  with  the  three  loaves 
which  he  asked,  he  gets  the  freedom  of  his  heavenly 
Father's  house  ;  all  the  luxuries  of  the  heavenly  table. 
So  that  Syrophoenician  woman,  having  won  the  gift 
she  asked  of  Christ,  found  Christ  himself  at  her  ser- 
vice.    Not  only  ''  thy  daughter  is  healed,"  but  ''  be  it 
unto  thee  even  as  thou  wilt."     Solomon  asked  for 
wisdom,  and  God  answered  him  :  ''  Lo,  I  have  given 
thee  a  wise  and  an  understanding  heart,  and  I  have 


36  Faith  and  Character. 

also  given  thee  that  which  thou  hast  not  asked,  both 
riches  and  honor."  Job,  from  the  midst  of  his  distress, 
cries,  **  Oh,  that  I  knew  where  I  might  find  Him,"  and 
the  Lord  not  only  renewed  his  former  prosperity,  but 
blessed  him  more  than  at  the  beginning.  When  God 
opens  the  door  He  gives  as  many  as  the  applicant 
needeth  ;  not  by  the  measure  of  little,  weak,  human 
petitions,  but  ''according  to  the  riches  of  His  glory." 
He  gives  all  things,  but  all  things  with  Christ,  a 
richer  gift  than  all  things  beside. 

And  from  this  thought  we  get  a  broader  outlook 
upon  the  character  of  importunate  prayer.  It  is  not 
only  urgency  and  persistence  on  special  occasions 
and  with  a  view  to  special  favors.  True  prayer  is 
not  only  the  soul's  striving  for  some  particular  thing, 
but  the  soul's  desire  for  God  as  its  life,  and  the  giver 
of  every  gift.  And  just  to  the  degree  in  which  the 
soul  recognizes  that  God  is  its  life,  that  man  lives 
not  by  bread  alone  but  by  every  word  of  God,  not 
by  God's  gifts  but  by  God  Himself — to  that  degree 
the  desire  for  God  will  span  the  life.  The  life  will 
be  a  life  of  importunate  prayer,  in  that  it  will  be  a 
continuous  aspiration  after  God,  a  prayer  without 
ceasing,  a  continuing  instant  in  prayer.  ''  That  soul," 
as  one  most  beautifully  says,  ''that  is  accustomed  to 
direct  herself  to  God  upon  every  occasion  ;  that  as  a 
flower  at  sun-rising  conceives  a  sense  of  God  in 
every  beam  of  His,  and  spreads  and  dilates  itself  to- 
ward Him,  in  a  thankfulness,  in  every  small  blessing 
that  He  sheds  upon  her  ;  that  soul  who,  whatsoever 
string  be  stricken  in  her,  base  or  treble,  her  high  or 


**  Because  of  his  ImporUutity ^  37 

her  low  estate,  is  ever  turned  toward  God,  that  soul 
prays  sometimes  when  it  does  not  know  that  it 
prays." 

We  are  urged  then,  in  this  parable,  to  earnest,  con- 
tinuous prayer. 

I  St.  By  the  character  of  the  Friend  at  whose  door 
we  knock.  Oh,  how  tliis  chapter  throws  the  tender- 
ness and  magnanimity  and  patience  of  God  into  re- 
lief against  the  narrowness  and  churlishness  of  men. 
On  what  a  grand  scale  is  His  giving  as  compared  with 
the  stinted  giving  of  human  selfishness.  Is  He  your 
friend  to-day  ?  Do  you  know  Him  from  personal  ac- 
quaintance, from  having  sought  His  doors  in  the 
midnight  when  some  unwelcome  visitant  made  your 
couch  uneasy,  and  drove  sleep  from  your  eyes  ;  or 
from  still,  sweet  communings  in  the  breaking  of  the 
day,  when  you  awoke  and  found  yourself  with  Him  ? 
Do  you  know  Him  as  a  Father  and  friend,  as  a  co- 
worker and  sympathizer  ?  If  so,  you  know  what  it  is 
to  pray.  Knowing  Him  thus,  as  the  God  of  your  life, 
the  source  of  your  joy,  the  fountain  of  your  power, 
you  cannot  be  content  without  being  often  at  His 
door,  yea,  dwelling  in  the  very  secret  of  His  taberna- 
cle continually. 

2d.  This  duty  and  privilege  of  importunate  prayer 
is  urged  by  our  needs.  The  untimely  guests  are  ever 
coming,  as  our  Lord  knew  they  would  be,  when  He 
put  upon  our  lips  the  prayer,  ''Give  us  this  day  our 
daily  bread."  Need,  helplessness,  weakness,  igno- 
rance, sorrow,  are  not  exceptional  incidents  in  our 
lives  ;   they   are   the   very  atmosphere  in  which  we 


38  Faith  and  Character. 

live,  the  staple  of  our  existence,  and  through  them 
we  learn,  if  in  no  other  way,  that  men  need  always  to 
pray  and  not  to  faint. 

3d.  This  duty  is  urged  by  the  encouragements 
which  it  presents.  With  such  a  friend,  who  need 
faint  in  prayer  ?  The  trouble  is  that  we  do  not  al- 
ways know  our  friend,  and  so  mistake  Him  and  do 
Him  injustice.  We  accuse  Him  of  churlishness, 
when  He  keeps  us  waiting  only  that  He  may  feed 
us  more  richly :  may  give  us  not  only  the  three  loaves, 
but  Himself  and  all  His  riches  of  grace  and  glory. 

**  It  is  not  so,  but  so  it  looks, 
And  we  lose  courage  then. 
And  doubts  will  come  if  God  hath  kept 
His  promises  to  men. 

Ah  !  God  is  other  than  we  think. 

His  ways  are  far  above  ; 
Far  beyond  reason's  height,  and  reached 

Only  by  childlike  love. ' ' 

Prayer  has  a  history  of  victories,  enough  to  en- 
courage the  weakest  heart.  The  faith  which  has  kept 
its  hold  on  the  promises  and  has  pressed  its  suit  in 
spite  of  all  delays,  has  developed  a  strength  which 
has  filled  history  with  marvels.  The  old  Greek  phi- 
losopher used  to  say,  that  if  he  had  a  lever  long 
enough,  and  a  place  somewhere  outside  the  world  to 
stand  upon,  he  could  move  the  planet.  Revelation 
has  furnished  the  place.  The  mercy-seat,  where  the 
Christian  stands,  is  far  above  the  seething  and  tur- 
moil of  earth.     Prayer  is  a  lever  which  puts  earth  at 


^*  Because  of  his  Lnportiinity.''^  39 

the  disposal  of  heaven,  and,  plying  that  lever  with  the 
strong  arm  of  faith,  the  feeblest  child  of  God  works 
results  which  fill  earth  with  wonder,  and  hell  with 
dismay  and  rage. 

Oh,  my  brethren,  fail  not  to  use  the  power  God 
thus  puts  into  your  hands.  You  have  great  needs, 
large  desires,  bitter  sorrows,  vast  enterprises  ;  be  not 
driven  from  your  place  at  God's  doors.  Stand  there 
though  He  delay  long.  Plead  His  faithful  promises. 
Let  no  doubts  of  the  love  and  faithfulness  of  your 
friend  make  you  chary  of  asking  large  things. 

** Lose  not  heart, 

But  learn  what  God  is  like, 
And  in  the  darkest  battle-field 
Thou  shalt  know  where  to  strike." 

Remember  that  it  is  through  faith  and  patience 
you  shall  inherit  the  promises  ;  and  the  day  shall 
come  when  the  importunity  of  prayer  shall  be 
changed  into  the  victory  of  faith,  the  doors  shall  be 
opened,  and  you  shall  be  satisfied  with  the  fulness  of 
His  house. 


WHAT    THINK  YE    OF 
CHRIST." 


MATTHEW    XXII. 

(41)  While  the  Pharisees  were  gathered  together,  Jesus  asked 

them, 

(42)  Saying,  What  think  ye  of  Christ  ?     Whose  Son  is  he  ? 


III. 

"WHAT  THINK  YE   OF  CHRIST?" 

There  is  a  familiar  saying  to  the  effect  that  fools 
can  easily  ask  questions  which  wise  men  cannot  an- 
swer. As  a  naked  statement,  it  is  true  enough  ;  but 
so  far  as  it  implies  that  all  the  difficulty  or  all  the 
wisdom  involved  in  question  and  answer  are  on  the 
side  of  the  answerer,  it  is  quite  false.  It  is  doubtless 
the  mark  of  a  w^ise  man  to  be  able  to  answer  ques- 
tions Avell  ;  but  it  is  the  mark  of  a  higher  wisdom 
to  be  able  to  ask  them  pertinently.  This  is  a  distin- 
guishing trait  of  every  great  teacher.  Socrates  owes 
his  eminence  among  the  ancient  sages  largely  to  this 
power ;  and  Jesus  Christ  is  distinguished  by  it  above 
all  other  teachers.  A  volume  might  be  w^ritten  upon 
the  questions  of  the  Son  of  man.  If  we  study  them, 
we  shall  find  them  adapted,  in  most  cases,  not  mere- 
ly to  bring  out  appropriate  answers,  but  to  set  the 
mind  of  him  to  whom  they  were  addressed  at  work 
upon  some  of  their  fresh  and  remote  relations. 
When  Christ  asked  a  question,  it  usually  drew,  not 
only  upon  one's  memory  and  knowledge,  but  also 
upon  his  reasoning  power.  Thus,  he  often  set  on 
foot,  by  a  simple  question,  a  train  of  thought  which 
exposed   to   a   false   reasoner   his   own   sophism,    or 


44  Faith  and  Character. 

opened  a  new  find  startling  view  of  an  old  truth  to 
the  unthinking.  Some  of  his  most  instructive  par- 
ables are  thus  put  in  the  form  of  question:  ''What 
think  ye  ?  If  a  man  have  an  hundred  sheep  and  one 
of  them  be  gone  astray,  will  he  not  leave  the  ninety 
and  nine  and  seek  the  lost  ?  What  woman,  if  she 
lose  one  piece  of  silver  out  of  ten,  \y\\\  not  sweep  for 
the  one  ?  What  think  ye  ?  Which  of  the  two  sons 
who  were  sent  into  the  vineyard  did  the  will  of  his 
father  ? " 

Our  text  introduces  a  question  of  this  character  : 
not  a  profound  question,  apparently  ;  to  a  Pharisee  it 
might  well  have  seemed  an  absurd  question  :  ''  Whose 
Son  is  the  Christ  ? "  "  Art  thou  a  Jew  and  askest  that 
question  of  us  ?  Does  any  true  child  of  Abraham 
dream  of  the  Messiah's  coming  through  any  other 
line  than  David's  ? "  And,  as  we  see,  the  question  was 
asked  only  that  through  the  answer  which,  as  Jesus 
knew,  was  so  ready  on  their  lips,  they  might  be 
brought  to  contemplate  the  divine  as  well  as  the 
human  lineage  of  the  Messiah  :  to  acknowledge  the 
Son  of  God  in  the  Son  of  man,  David's  divine  Lord 
in  David's  son. 

Modern  criticism  would  leave  the  matter  just  here, 
as  an  incident  in  the  life  of  Clirist,  having  no  signifi- 
cance beyond  the  immediate  matter  in  hand.  It  was 
an  ingenious  dialectic  artifice,  intended  to  confound 
the  Pharisees,  and  it  succeeded.  It  raised  a  question 
concerning  a  prominent  character  in  Jewish  prophecy, 
and  left  the  Jewish  teachers  to  settle  it  as  they  could. 
It  is  a  question  which  in  no  way  concerns  the  present. 


*^What  thuik  ye  of  Christ .''  45 

But  is  this  true  ?  Can  we  stop  here  ?  Is  that 
question  a  merely  local  and  historical  one  ?  Cer- 
tainly, if  Christ  was  only  a  Jewish  Messiah  ;  cer- 
tainly, if  Christ  was  only  a  teacher  like  Socrates  or 
Aristotle,  a  product  of  his  age.  But  if  Christ,  as  he 
claims,  has  a  relation  to  every  creature  in  all  the 
world,  if  his  precepts  are  given  for  all  mankind,  if  it 
be  true  that  he  has  been  lifted  up  to  draw  all  men 
unto  him,  then  the  question  does  not  stop  Avith  the 
confusion  of  the  Pharisees.  It  moves  on,  demand- 
ing an  answer  from  every  age.  It  is  as  truly  a  living 
question  to-day  as  on  the  day  it  was  asked  ;  a  question 
touching  alike  our  thinking  and  our  living.  ''What 
think  ye  of  Christ  ? " 

However  we  regard  it,  whether  as  local  or  univer- 
sal, whether  as  temporary  or  permanent,  there  is  one 
assumption  distinctly  underlying  this  question,  name- 
ly, that  it  relates  to  a  subject  of  common  interest,  and 
one,  therefore,  about  which  every  man  may  be  ex- 
pected to  have  some  kind  of  an  opinion.  There  are 
some  questions  which  man  would  be  a  fool  to  ask 
outside  of  a  circle  of  specialists.  If  an  astronomer 
were  to  ask  of  the  crowd  in  the  cabin  of  a  Brooklyn 
ferry-boat,  ''What  do  you  think  of  the  transit  of 
Venus  ? "  probably  nine-tenths  of  the  crowd  would 
wonder  what  he  was  talking  about.  If  he  should  ask 
the  same  people,  "What  do  you  think  of  a  return  to 
specie  payment  ? "  opinions  would  be  offered  in  abun- 
dance. There  are,  in  short,  subjects  on  which  every 
man  is  presumed  to  think  ;  and  to  be  without  an 
opinion  about  them  exposes  him  to  contempt. 


4^  Faith  and  Character. 

Of  this  nature  was  the  Messianic  question  in 
Christ's  time.  Christ,  in  speaking  of  the  Messiah, 
alludes  to  him  as  a  well-known  character:  '^What 
think  ye  of  the  Christ  ? "  The  subject  of  the  most 
glowing  prophecies,  the  centre  of  expectation  to  a 
proud  but  degraded  people,  his  coming  looked  for 
with  the  most  ardent  hope,  and  prayed  for  with  fast- 
falling  tears — what  Jewish  child  could  be  ignorant  of 
the  Christ  ? 

Now,  when  I  say  that  Christ  occupies  to-day  pre- 
cisely the  same  position  with  reference  to  current 
thought,  I  do  not  merely  state  an  opinion  that  the 
subject  is  as  important  now  as  then  :  I  state  a  fact, 
let  it  be  accounted  for  as  it  may,  that  a  man  who 
thinks  at  all  can  hardly  be  in  contact  with  nineteenth 
century  civilization,  and  not  be  compelled  to  think  of 
Christ.  All  attempts  to  banish  Him  into  the  region  of 
remote  history  are  in  vain.  The  age  has  gotten  past 
other  men.  Plato,  Socrates,  Caesar,  Alexander,  Homer 
and  Virgil — all  confessedly  great  men,  are  yet  instinc- 
tively felt  to  belong  to  the  past.  But  the  age  does  not 
get  past  Christ.  He  is  as  distinctly,  yea,  more  dis- 
tinctly, a  fact  of  the  nineteenth  century  than  of  the 
first.  In  a  hundred  different  ways  he  appears  in  the 
philosophy,  the  politics,  the  social  science,  the  states- 
manship, the  language,  the  ordinary  customs  of  the 
present.  He  is  historical,  but  he  is  more  than  histori- 
cal. He  is  a  memory,  but  he  is  also  a  power,  and  a 
growing  power  ;  and  the  position  of  modern  society 
with  reference  to  Christ  is  very  well  represented  by 
Pilate's  dilemma  when  the  Saviour  was  brought  before 


"  What  think  ye  of  Christ ^  47 

him.  He  could  not  but  respect  him  ;  he  wanted  to 
avoid  the  responsibility  of  dealing  with  him.  He  sent 
him  to  Herod,  and  Herod  sent  him  back  ;  and  he  had 
to  dispose  of  him  in  some  way,  and  Pilate  never  had 
a  harder  question  to  settle  than  that  which  he  pro- 
pounded to  the  Jews,  "What  shall  I  do  then  with 
Jesus  of  Nazareth,  who  is  called  Christ  ? "  Christ  is  in 
the  w^ay  of  the  nineteenth  century.  He  cannot  be 
waved  out  of  the  way,  nor  argued  out  of  the  way,  nor 
patronized  out  of  the  w^ay,  nor  driven  out  of  the  way, 
nor  ignored.  He  must  be  confronted  and  dealt  with,  no 
matter  how  many  Pilates  desire  to  wash  their  hands 
of  him.  He  was  a  troublesome  fact  in  his  own 
time,  but  the  trouble  has  taken  on  a  thousand  new 
forms  since  that.  His  own  time  dealt  with  him  at 
last,  and  thought  it  had  gotten  him  safely  out  of  the 
way;  but  the  resurrection  disappointed  its  hopes, 
and  Christ,  being  raised  from  the  dead,  has  been 
proving  to  every  succeeding  age  that  He  dieth  no 
more  ;  and  an  age  that  is  annoyed  by  His  presence, 
and  stirred  into  opposition  by  His  power,  is  yet 
forced  to  hear,  with  chagrin,  the  words  so  dear  to  His 
disciples  :  *'  Lo,  I  am  with  you  alway,  even  unto  the 
end  of  the  world." 

I  say  these  are  not  opinions,  they  are  facts  :  facts 
patent  to  any  judicious  observer.  Remand  Christ  to 
his  own  time  !  Why  the  most  superficial  student  can- 
not help  seeing  how  the  stream  of  Christian  history 
keeps  breaking,  all  along  the  line,  into  the  current  of 
secular  history,  and  mingling  with  its  waters,  until 
sometimes  the  history  of  a  period  is  mainly  the  his- 


48  Faith  and  Character. 

tory  of  the  Christian  church.  Take  out  all  the  ele- 
ments which  Christ  and  his  followers  have  contrib- 
uted to  the  story  of  nineteen  centuries,  and  you  will 
blot  out  at  least  two-thirds  of  that  story. 

Or,  take  Christ  as  he  comes  forward  in  the  familiar 
institutions  and  customs  of  society.  You  come  upon 
him  constantly,  just  as  you  come  upon  churches  in 
the  streets,  or  shrines  by  foreign  roadsides.  When 
you  shall  go  down  to  your  offices  to-morrow,  and  be- 
gin to  write  your  letters,  the  first  one  you  write  will 
contain  in  its  date  a  recognition  of  Christ — "  the  year 
of  our  Lord."  You  may  have  more  than  one  call  in 
the  course  of  the  day  to  contribute  to  schemes  for 
the  moral  and  intellectual  elevation  of  the  poor. 
Who,  in  all  the  old  civilizations  ever  dreamed  that 
the  poor  had  aught  to  do  but  to  keep  down  at  the 
bottom  of  the  social  fabric,  where  birth  and  poverty 
had  placed  them  ?  Who,  before  Christ,  ever  troubled 
himself  to  inquire  whether  a  poor  man  had  any  soul 
or  mind  to  educate  ;  still  less  to  give  him  knowledge 
or  moral  culture  which  might  make  him  an  intruder 
into  higher  circles,  or  a  less  passive  tool  of  the  vil- 
lainies of  his  superiors  ?  It  was  Christ's  idea  to 
preach  a  gospel  to  the  poor,  a  gospel  with  all  that 
that  term  involves  of  mental  and  spiritual  culture  ; 
and  that  idea,  with  all  its  blessed  outgrowth,  is  an  ac- 
cepted fact  in  modern  civilization,  a  part  of  its  ma- 
chinery, a  thing  of  which  civil  government  takes 
cognizance,  and  for  which  you  find  it  a  most  natu- 
ral thing  to  make  provision,  when  you  lay  out  the 
scheme   of   your  yearly   expenditures.     A    thousand 


*'  W/iai  thi7ik  ye  of  Christ ^  49 

social  regulations  and  ordinary  decencies  which  have 
become    a   second   nature    to    you,    the   violation   of 
which  you   resent  as    trenching  upon  common  pro- 
priety, have  their  origin  in  Christ's  teachings.     Your 
very  speech  betrays  the  Galilean  accent  as  unmista- 
kably as  did  Peter's.      How  many  of  the  most  famil- 
iar words  upon  your  tongue   have   gotten   their  ac- 
cepted meaning  solely  through  the  contact  of  Chris- 
tian ideas,  yea,   have    been  dragged  up    out    of  low 
and  vile    associations  to  be  the  heralds  of  him  who 
spake  as  never  man  spake.      "  Talent,"  a  word  of  the 
money-market,  associated   only   with   traffic  or  with 
extortion,  received  a  stamp  which  it  has  carried  ever 
since,  when  Christ  uttered  the  parable  of  the  five, 
two,  and  one  talents.      "  Sacrament,"  the  name  which 
carries  with  it  to  us  the  whole  group  of  sweet  mem- 
ories, solemn  reflections,  joyful  hopes,  which  cluster 
round  the  Lord's  table— what  gave  that  meaning  to  a 
word  of  the  camp,  a  word  linked  with  blood  and  fire 
and  disciplined  brutality,  the  word  for   the   Roman 
military  oath?     These  are  only   specimens  of   hun- 
dreds which  might  be  cited  in  illustration  of  the  fact 
that  common  speech  perpetuates  the  ideas  of  Christ. 
You  can  send  your  children  to  no  school  where  they 
will  not  come  into  contact  with  mfluences,  and  be 
shaped  by  forces  which  have  had  their  rise  in  Christ. 
Every  one  of  us,  in  short,  is  the  product  of  a  Christian 
civilization,  and  its  mark  is  on  us.     We  cannot  deny 
our  birthright.     We  are  children  of  Christian  influ- 
ences, moulded  by  Christian  associations  ;  our  habits 
of  thought  unconsciously  modified  by  Christian  forces, 
3 


50  Faith  and  Character. 

our  lives  unconsciously  regulated  by  Christian  rules. 
The  very  fact  that  you  or  I  can  deny  Christianity  if 
we  choose,  or  accept  and  practise  it  through  any  de- 
nominational medium  that  we  choose,  without  danger 
to  person  or  property  from  church  or  state,  is  a  re- 
sult of  Christianity.  Frame  a  community,  the  first 
article  of  which  shall  be  to  reject  and  violate  every 
precept  of  Christ,  and  ere  sunset  you  shall  find  your 
doors  assailed  by  the  decency,  the  culture,  the  refine- 
ment, the  virtue,  the  authority  of  society,  crying  out 
against  you  as  the  disturbers  of  the  public  peace  and 
the  sappers  of  the  public  virtue. 

Such  facts  cannot  fail  to  set  us  thinking.  It  is  not 
in  ordinary  human  nature  to  be  continually  meeting 
this  Jesus  of  Nazareth  identified  with  so  many  fami- 
liar things,  and  not  have  its  interest  and  curiosity 
keenly  aroused.  Inevitably  we  are  led  to  ask,  *'  Whose 
son  is  he  ? "  Who  a  man's  parents  were,  makes  or- 
dinarily very  little  difference  to  us.  We  gauge  the 
man  according  to  his  own  ability  and  efficiency,  with- 
out reference  to  his  origin.  Our  estimate  of  Shake- 
speare or  of  Bacon  is  no  greater  because  we  know  their 
ancestry.  But  the  case  is  otherwise  with  Christ.  His 
practical  relation  to  the  world  is  bound  up  with  his 
origin.  His  life  suggests  and  his  words  lay  claim  to 
a  superhuman  lineage  ;  and  it  bears  very  directly 
upon  the  living  and  thinking  of  all  of  us,  whether  he 
be  indeed  born  Lord  of  men  and  angels,  coequal  with 
God,  or  whether  he  be  no  more  than  a  man  like  unto 
ourselves.  It  makes  the  difference  between  worship 
and  admiration  ;  between  allegiance  and  partial  ad- 


**Whai  think  ye  of  Christ ^  $1 

herence  ;  between  implicit  trust  and  critical  discrim- 
ination ;  between  passionate  enthusiasm  and  cool  re- 
spect. 

So  it  behooves  us  to  press  the  question  in  this 
direction  :  '^  What  think  ye  of  Christ  ?  Is  He  the  son 
of  God  or  not  ?" 

The  more  so  because  there  is  often  visible  a  ten- 
dency to  put  aside  the  question  as  of  little  practical 
moment.  It  is  said  the  question  of  Christ's  divinity 
belongs  to  the  region  of  metaphysics,  and  does  not 
affect  the  acceptance  of  his  precepts  as  a  rule  of  life. 

But  the  truth  is  that  if  Christianity  be  accepted  as 
a  fact,  and  still  more  if  it  be  accepted  as  a  rule, 
those  who  so  accept  it  cannot  stop  here,  for  the  fact 
gets  its  main  significance  and  the  rule  its  obligation 
from  what  Christ  is.  Christianity  cannot  be  accepted 
as  a  mere  system,  since  the  system  is  framed  to  set 
forth  and  to  exalt  its  author.  The  system  is  Christ. 
Christ  alone  interprets  it ;  and  therefore  the  whole 
question  of  its  value  to  the  world  turns  on  the  nature 
of  Christ's  person.  Here  comes  a  teacher  claiming 
to  be  equal  with  God,  and  defending,  instead  of  sur- 
rendering, his  position  when  the  Jews  threaten  to 
stone  him  for  blasphemy  ;  one  who  claims  power  to 
forgive  sins  ;  one  w^ho  claims  pre-existence  with  God  ; 
one  who  asserts  that  he  is  to  judge  the  world,  and  to 
do  this  with  the  special  intent  that  men  may  honor 
him  as  they  honor  God.  I  hesitate  not  to  say  that 
such  claims  bring  us  face  to  face  with  a  single 
sharply-cut  alternative — deity  or  imposture.  I  hesi- 
tate not  to  say  that  if  the  Christ  of  the  gospels  is  the 


52  FaitJi  and  Character. 

being  whom  Renan,  for  example,  decorates  with  the 
title  of  ''a  pillar  of  humanity,"  he  is  the  fitting  ob- 
ject for  the  w^orld's  contempt  and  not  for  its  love 
and  reverence.  What  think  ye  of  Christ  ?  Is  he  the 
Son  of  God,  or  a  conscious  and  deliberate  impostor  ? 
We  must  answ^er  this  question  ere  we  commit  our- 
selves to  Christianity. 

So,  too,  if  Jesus  is  not  sinless,  I  may  admire  him, 
like  other  men  of  genius  ;  but  I  cannot  accept  a 
moral  system  at  his  hands,  much  less  a  professed 
atonement  for  my  sins  based  on  his  perfect  obedi- 
ence and  the  offering  of  his  spotless  nature  to  God. 
If  he  be  not  coequal  w^ith  the  Father,  I  may  even 
reverence,  but  I  must  not  worship  him.  If  he  was 
but  a  good  man,  a  brilliant  teacher,  I  may  study  and 
copy  ;  but  I  need  not  look  up  into  the  heavens  ex- 
pecting to  see  a  Great  High  Priest,  touched  with  the 
feeling  of  my  infirmities  through  his  human  nature, 
and  lifting  me  above  them  by  his  divine  power.  Ac- 
cording as  I  answer  the  question  to  myself,  whether 
he  be  the  Son  of  God  or  no,  he  is  either  a  mere  mem- 
ory, 'growing  fainter  with  the  lapse  of  time,  or  a  liv- 
ing power  and  presence,  growing  dearer  and  sweeter 
and  mightier  in  his  influence  over  my  life,  the  nearer 
the  years  bring  me  to  his  eternal  presence.  As  an 
earnest  truth-seeker,  as  a  lost  sinner,  as  a  sufferer,  as 
an  heir  of  immortality,  the  question  is  one  of  tremen- 
dous import  to  me— ''Whose  Son  is  Christ?" 

But  the  gospel  never  encourages  mere  speculative 
thinking.  Whenever  it  asks,  ''What  think  ye  ?  "  we 
may  be  sure  it  is  marshalling  us  along  some  line  of 


'*  What  think  ye  of  Christr  53 

practical  duty.  So  our  views  of  Christ's  person  and 
character  bear  directly  upon  what  we  are  and  upon 
our  line  of  conduct.  Opposite  views  of  Christ  w411 
not  conduct  us  to  the  same  point.  If  one  approaches 
from  the  left  hand,  and  the  other  from  the  right,  they 
wall  find,  if  the  gospel  is  to  be  believed,  a  very  great 
difference  between  the  place  at  Christ's  right  hand 
and  that  at  his  left.  If  you  think  Christ  is  the  Son 
of  God,  you  are  logically  committed  to  follow  Christ. 
If  you  answer  Christ's  question,  **Whom  say  ye 
that  I  am,"  w4th  Peter's  words,  "Thou  art  the  Christ, 
the  Son  of  the  living  God,"  he  follows  it  promptly  up 
with  that  other  question  to  Peter,  ''Lovest  thou 
me  ? "  I  do  not  assume  that  Christ  is  what  he  claims 
to  be  ;  only  that  if  you  are  satisfied  that  he  is,  you 
are  committed  to  a  passionate  devotion.  You  have 
acknowledged  a  Master  whose  rule  is  love,  with 
whom  love  is  the  very  basis  of  loyalty  ;  you  have  ac- 
knowledged him  to  be  coequal  with  God,  and  he  turns 
upon  you  with  God's  own  law  of  love.  ''Thou  shalt 
love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  'with 
all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  strength,  and  with  all 
thy  mind."  Face  this  practical  side  of  the  question 
and  tell  me,  ''What  think  ye  of  Christ?"  I  do  not 
say  that  Christ  has  any  authority  to  call  you  a  sinner, 
or  to  forgive  sins  ;  only  that  if  you  think  Christ  is  the 
Son  of  God,  the  conclusion  is  very  damaging  to  your 
self-righteousness.  It  is  a  conclusion  which  is  adapt- 
ed to  bring  tears  of  penitence  to  your  eyes,  and  words 
of  confession  to  your  lips.  It  is  bound  up  with  the 
story  of  a  lonely  sufferer  in  Gethsemane,  of  an  up- 


54  Faith  and  Character, 

lifted  cross,  of  a  pierced  side,  and  it  points  to  the  foot 
of  that  cross  as  your  appropriate  place,  and  to  that 
bleeding  victim  as  your  offering  for  sin.  And  stand- 
ing to-day  in  view  of  that  cross,  on  the  very  thresh- 
old of  the  chamber  where  Jesus  is  to  be  again  lifted 
up  in  symbol  before  the  eyes  of  his  church,  I  ask 
once  more,  '^  What  think  ye  of  Christ  ? " 

I  do  not  assume  that  Jesus  is  the  Master  he  claims  to 
be.  Perhaps  others  have  an  equal  or  a  superior  claim 
to  masterdom.  Perhaps  the  v/ords  of  some  Hindu 
saint,  some  Greek  philosopher,  some  modern  tran- 
scendentalist  come  home  to  you  with  more  authority 
than  the  words  of  the  man  of  Nazareth.  But  if  you 
grant  that  Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God,  you  are  committed 
to  service.  There  is  a  yoke  and  a  burden  for  you. 
There  are  talents,  one,  five,  ten,  awaiting  your  admin- 
istration. There  is  a  lesson  of  fidelity  for  you,  a  liv- 
ing lesson,  running  through  those  wondrous  three 
years  of  a  ministry,  whose  key-note  was,  "  My  meat  is 
to  do  the  will  of  Him  that  sent  me,  and  to  finish  His 
work."  If  Christ  be  the  Son  of  God,  the  lesson  of  this 
ministry  is  bound  to  be  your  rule  of  living.  Service 
is  to  be  the  very  staple  of  your  life  ;  fidelity  your 
highest  aim.  Christ  is  to  rule  your  life  absolutely ; 
is  to  choose  your  place  for  you,  to  mete  out  your 
work  to  you,  to  apportion  your  time  as  He  will,  to 
command  your  means  for  his  own  uses,  to  be  su- 
preme in  your  business  and  in  your  home.  Oh,  let 
your  thought  steal  away  this  morning  from  this  busy 
century,  with  its  pushing  and  wrangling  for  place  and 
pelf.     Go  back,  far  back  into  the  olden  time,  and 


*'Whai  think  ye  of  Christ,''  55 

mount  to  that  upper  chamber  in  old  Jerusalem,  and 
look  upon  that  kneeling  figure,  girded  with  a  towel, 
that  head  so  soon  to  bear  again  the  flashing  diadem 
of  the  Father's  glory,  bent  over  the  wayworn  feet  of 
the  fisherman  and  publican,  and  with  that  picture  in 
your  eye,  and  in  your  ear  those  meaning  words,  *'  The 
Son  of  man  came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to 
minister,  and  to  give  his  life  a  ransom  for  many ; " 
tell  me,  ''  What  think  ye  of  Christ  ?  " 

And  now  I  change  my  ground.  I  make  no  more 
concessions  for  argument's  sake.  I  take  the  stand- 
point of  one  who  believes  that  Jesus  is  the  Son  of 
God  ;  and  if  there  is  one  here  who  rejects  Christ,  if 
there  is  one  here  who  deems  it  a  matter  of  little  con- 
sequence what  he  thinks  about  Christ,  if  there  is  one 
here  who  professes  to  believe  in  Christ  without  fol- 
lowing Christ,  to  such  an  one  I  address  myself.  I 
have  shown  you,  and  you  needed  no  words  of  mine  to 
show  you,  that  Christ  is  a  fact  and  a  power  in  the 
world,  and  has  been  such  since  the  day  of  his  death. 
To  attempt  to  ignore  this  fact,  thrusting  itself  under 
a  thousand  forms  daily,  into  our  very  faces,  argues 
anything  but  wisdom.  Men  may  honestly  differ  as  to 
the  solution  of  the  problem  furnished  by  Christ's  life 
and  lessons,  but  solved  it  must  be.  No  thoughtful 
man  can  evade  it.  In  the  eloquent  words  of  a  mod- 
ern apologist,  *' Though  you  only  salute  your  Saviour 
with  the  Pagan  cry,  *  Behold  the  man  ! '  at  least  you 
cannot  ignore  him  ;  you  cannot  resist  the  moral  and 
intellectual  forces  which  converge  in  our  day  with 
an  ever-increasing  intensity  upon  his  sacred  person  ; 


56  Faith  and  Character. 

you  cannot  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  the  question  which  he 
asks  of  his  followers  in  each  generation,  and  which 
he  never  asked  more  solemnly  than  now  :  ^  Whom 
say  men  that  I,  the  Son  of  man,  am  ? '  "  ' 

And  from  my  point  of  view,  I  maintain  that  it 
makes  an  enormous  practical  difference  what  answer 
you  give  to  this  question.  It  may  matter  little  what 
you  think  about  some  things,  but  it  cannot  matter 
little  what  you  think  about  Christ.  Christ  declares 
himself  to  be  the  Son  of  God.  The  whole  Scriptures 
indorse  his  claim.  His  words  and  his  works  leave 
it  beyond  question  ;  and  being  the  Son  of  God,  the 
equal  of  God,  one  with  God,  the  manifestation  of 
God,  the  only  medium  of  knowing  or  approaching 
God — the  acceptance  or  rejection  of  Christ  is  the 
acceptance  or  rejection  of  God.  You  may  choose 
some  other  mode  of  deliverance  from  sin,  but  you 
will  find  it  is  not  strong  enough  to  break  your  chains. 
You  may  choose  some  other  type  of  manhood  as  your 
model,  but  you  w^ill  achieve  only  an  inferior  man- 
hood. You  may  adopt  some  other  theory  of  life  than 
Christ's  theory  of  service,  but  your  life  will  be  a  fail- 
ure. In  short,  and  I  would  have  you  weigh  these 
words  well,  what  you  think  of  Christ  determines  your 
moral  destiny. 

The  matter  is  open  to  you  now.  You  are  left  to 
form  your  opinion.  The  evidence  is  before  you  to 
weigh  it  calmly.  Christ  is  before  you  in  the  gospels, 
in    history,   in    daily  life,    suggesting  constantly  the 

'  Liddon. 


"  W/iai  think  ye  of  Christy  57 

question,  *'  What  think  ye  of  Christ  ? "  As  an  intelli- 
gent man  or  woman,  as  an  honest  man  or  woman,  as 
an  immortal  soul,  you  cannot,  you  must  not  shirk  the 
question.  For  depend  upon  it,  if  you  choose  not  to 
think  of  him  at  all,  or  any  more  than  you  are  abso- 
lutely forced  to  do  ;  if  you  resolutely  shut  your  eyes 
to  him,  the  day  is  coming  when  every  eye  shall  see 
him  ;  when  he  shall  stand  clearly  revealed  as  your 
judge  ;  when  there  shall  no  longer  be  any  room  for 
question  as  to  his  lineage  or  dignity,  and  when  the 
great  question  forcing  itself  upon  your  heart,  and 
shaking  it  with  fear  to  its  inmost  core,  will  be  no  lon- 
ger, ''What  think  you  of  Christ  ?"  but,  ''What  does 
Christ  think  of  me?"  No  longer  "What  shall  I  do 
with  Jesus  ? "  but,  "  What  will  Jesus  do  with  me  ? " 

It  is  well  that  we  may  come  to  the  Lord's  table  to- 
day. A  fitting  place  it  is  to  ask  ourselves  once  more, 
"  What  think  ye  of  Christ  ? "  No  better  place  to  win 
the  strength  and  courage  for  the  w^ork  and  warfare 
which  awaits  us.  You  say  much  by  coming  to  this 
table  with  its  broken  bread,  symbol  of  the  wheat 
crushed  for  the  world's  hunger  ;  with  its  outpoured 
wine  telling  of  a  life  freely  given  as  a  ransom  for 
many.  You  say  you  accept  the  portion  of  the  bruised 
wheat ;  are  ready  to  be  broken,  if  Christ  can  so  use 
you  best  for  the  world's  weal.  You  say  you  choose 
not  the  life  which  hides  and  seals  itself  within  its  own 
carefully  dug  w^ells  ;  but  the  life  which  freely  flows 
abroad  in  the  multiplied  channels  of  ministry.  You 
say  that  even  though  a  part  with  Christ  carries  with 
it  sorrow  and  sacrifice,  you  take  Christ's  part  never- 


^g  Faith  and  Character. 

theless.  Be  it  so.  Come  to  the  feast ;  but  better 
than  even  here  shall  you  give  the  answer  to  the  ques- 
tion, **What  think  ye  of  Christ,"  by  the  way  in  which 
you  shall  take  up  the  real,  no  less  than  the  symbolic 
cross  ;  by  bearing  about  in  the  body  the  dying  of  the 
Lord  Jesus,  that  the  life  also  of  Jesus  may  be  mani- 
fest in  you.  So  may  God  help  you  to  answer  this 
question  to  the  world,  that,  seeing  that  the  thought  of 
Christ  is  more  than  an  opinion,  rather  a  daily,  liv- 
ing power  in  you,  they  may,  through  the  servant,  be 
drawn  to  his  Lord. 


THE  AVARDSHIP  OF  THE 
LAW. 


GALATIANS    III. 

(24)  Wherefore  the   law  was  our  schoolmaster  to  bring  us 
unto  Christ,  that  we  might  be  justified  by  faith. 


IV. 

THE  WARDSHIP   OF  THE   LAW. 

The  transfiguration  vision  set  forth  the  fact  that  the 
law  and  the  prophets,  represented  on  the  mountain  by- 
Moses  and  Elias,  had  given  place  to  Christ  Those 
two  appeared  there,  paying  homage  to  our  Lord  ; 
and  by  this,  no  less  than  by  the  voice  which  came  out 
of  the  cloud,  declaring  that  Christ  was  the  anointed 
of  God,  the  men  who  were  to  preach  the  gospel  were 
distinctly  told  that  the  day  of  Moses  and  Elias  was 
past,  the  dispensation  of  ceremonies  and  of  shadows 
at  an  end,  and  that  Jesus  was  henceforth  to  be  the 
theme  of  their  preaching  and  the  central  figure  in 
the  eyes  of  the  church  and  of  the  world. 

Yet  while  Christ  thus  intended  to  exalt  himself 
above  Moses  and  Elias,  his  gospel  above  the  law  and 
the  prophets,  he  by  no  means  meant  that  the  disci- 
ples should  hold  these  in  contempt.  On  the  con- 
trary, Christ  everywhere  endeavors  to  show  his  fol- 
lowers that  the  law  and  the  prophets  and  the  gospel 
were  parts  of  one  great  scheme  by  which  God  was  in- 
structing and  saving  tlie  world.  And  nowhere  does 
this  appear  more  clearly  than  in  that  very  "sermon  on 
the  mount,"  by  which  superficial  readers  seek  to  dis- 
parage the  teachings  of  the  Old  Testament.    No  decla- 


62  Faith  and  Character. 

ration  could  be  more  explicit  than  this  :  '*  Think  not 
that  I  am  come  to  destroy  the  law  or  the  prophets  : 
I  am  not  come  to  destroy,  but  to  fulfil.  For  verily  I 
say  unto  you "  (a  formula  with  which  the  Saviour 
always  prefaces  any  specially  weighty  saying),  **Till 
heaven  and  earth  pass,  one  jot  or  one  tittle  shall  in 
no  wise  pass  from  the  law,  till  all  be  fulfilled.  Who- 
soever therefore  shall  break  one  of  these  least  com- 
mandments, and  shall  teach  men  so,  he  shall  be  called 
the  least  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  :  but  whosoever 
shall  do  and  teach  them,  the  same  shall  be  called 
great  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

Hence  we  see  in  this,  as  in  so  many  other  instances, 
the  necessity  of  studying  the  Scriptures  entire.  Not 
only  must  we  look  back  and  see  how  the  law  and 
the  prophets  lead  up  to  Christ  and  prepare  the  way 
for  him,  but  we  must  also  look  forward  and  see 
how  this  connection  between  the  law  and  the  gospel 
is  explained  arid  illustrated  in  the  writings  of  ths 
Apostles.  There  are  those  who  say  that  they  are 
quite  satisfied  with  the  gospels— the  words  of  Christ 
— and  who  treat  Paul,  for  instance,  as  though  he 
were  an  intruder;  as  though  his  writings  in  some 
way  detracted  from  the  purity  and  simplicity  of  the 
gospel,  and  were  quite  superfluous.  Such  forget  that 
our  Lord  himself  declared  that  his  own  teachings 
were  germinal,  and  would  require  and  would  receive 
further  illustration  in  the  future  ;  and  they  forget  also 
that  Paul  was  instinct  with  the  very  spirit  of  Christ, 
and  was  divinely  declared  to  be  a  "chosen  vessel" 
to  proclaim  His  name.      And  no  one,  I  think,  can 


The   Wardship  of  the  Law.  63 

study  the  writings  of  Paul,  of  John,  or  of  Peter,  with- 
out seeing,  not  only  that  they  do  not  contradict 
Christ,  but  also  that  they  reflect  much  light  upon  the 
teachings  of  Christ. 

Take  our  text,  for  instance.  It  might  stand  as  a 
parallel  to  the  declaration  of  our  Lord  :  **  I  am  not 
come  to  destroy  but  to  fulfil  the  law  and  the  proph- 
ets," and  also  to  the  lesson  on  the  mount  of  transfig- 
uration. In  that  formal  resignation  of  their  position 
and  honors  to  Jesus,  Moses  and  Elijah  only  did  what 
they  had  been  appointed  from  the  first  to  do.  From 
the  very  beginning  their  mission  had  pointed  to  Jesus, 
and  their  work  had  been  to  lead  the  world  forward  on 
the  road  to  Christ. 

That  is  just  what  this  text  declares  concerning  the 
law.  It  was  not  a  thing  independent  of  the  gospel. 
It  meant  the  gospel.  It  was  the  gospel  on  its  lower 
side.  It  issued  in  the  gospel,  and  could  find  its  true 
fulfilment  only  in  the  gospel. 

Hence,  our  text  says  the  law  was  our  schoolmaster 
to  lead  us  to  Christ. 

Here  we  have  one  of  those  graphic  picture  lessons 
in  which  the  writings  of  Paul  abound,  and  which 
show  how  deeply  he  had  studied  the  illustrative  teach- 
ing of  his  master  Christ.  The  original  of  the  picture 
might  be  seen  in  any  respectable  Greek  or  Roman 
family. 

Somewhere  about  a  boy's  sixth  year,  he  was  taken 
from  the  care  of  his  mother,  and  of  the  female  slaves, ' 
and  entrusted  to  a  male  slave,  known  as  the  ^^peda- 
gogue.''    This  person  was  often  a  foreigner,  often  a 


64  Faith  and  Character. 

person  of  education  and  culture,  and  sometimes  a 
man  of  distinction  in  his  own  country.  But  we  must 
not  be  misled  by  the  word  *'  schoolmaster  "  in  our  ver- 
sion, which  is  all  that  we  commonly  understand  by 
the  term  pedagogue.  Teaching,  indeed,  was  not  the 
main  part  of  his  office,  though  he  sometimes  had  a 
share  in  that  work  ;  nor  was  the  formation  of  morals. 
These  things  were  entrusted  principally  to  others.  The 
pedagogue's  business  was  that  of  general  super\dsion. 
He  accompanied  the  boy  to  school,  he  carried  his 
books,  he  attended  him  to  the  gymnasium,  he  as- 
sisted him  in  preparing  his  tasks,  he  seems  to  have 
had,  in  some  cases,  authority  to  punish  his  faults. 
He  was,  in  short,  a  kind  of  nurse. 

Now,  Paul  uses  this  figure  to  represent  the  relation 
of  the  law  to  the  gospel.  The  law,  he  says,  was  to  the 
spiritual  education  of  the  w^orld,  just  what  the  peda- 
gogue w^as  to  the  boy.  Before  the  boy  could  enter 
upon  the  freedom  of  manhood,  he  must  be  under  this 
tutor.  He  must  be,  in  a  certain  sense,  in  bondage  ; 
under  specific  rules.  His  intercourse  with  his  father 
must  be  largely  through  the  medium  of  the  tutor,  and 
not  free  and  direct.  Just  so,  Paul  says,  God's  pur- 
pose toward  His  people  was  to  bring  them  into  the 
liberty  of  His  own  children,  to  make  them  free  men 
in  His  own  household  ;  but  to  this  there  was  neces- 
sary a  preparatory  stage  of  legal  discipline.  *'  Be- 
fore faith  came,"  he  says,  *Sve  were  kept  under  the 
law,  shut  up  unto  the  faith  which  should  afterward 
be  revealed.  Wherefore,  the  law  was  our  pedagogue 
to  bring  us  to  Christ,  that  we  might  be  justified  by 


TJie    Wardship  of  the  Law.  65 

faith.  But  after  that  faith  is  come,  we  are  no  longer 
under  a  pedagogue." 

Thus,  then,  instead  of  finding  the  law  depreciated 
by  the  gospel,  we  find  it  exalted.  We  are  told  that  it 
played  a  most  important  part  in  our  Christian  educa- 
tion ;  that  it  had  a  sublime  purpose  ;  that  it  was 
nothing  less  than  the  instrument  in  bringing  us  to 
that  Christian  liberty  which  we  most  highly  prize  ; 
to  that  life  of  faith  in  Jesus  Christ,  of  free  intercourse 
with  our  Heavenly  Father ;  to  that  freedom  in  the 
form  and  outworking  of  our  individual,  spiritual  life, 
which  belongs  only  to  the  sons  of  God. 

But  the  question  now  arises,  '^  What  becomes  of  the 
law,  now  that  we  are  brought  to  Christ  ? "  Is  it  a 
dead  letter  ?  Has  it  no  more  part  to  play  in  our  re- 
ligious life  ?  Does  the  life  of  faith  and  of  love  do 
away  with  the  life  of  law  ? 

Here  we  strike  into  the  track  of  our  Saviour's  ow^n 
teaching,  to  which  I  have  already  referred  in  His 
words — "  Think  not  that  I  am  come  to  destroy  the 
law  or  the  prophets.  I  am  not  come  to  destroy,  but 
to  fulfil."  Here,  then,  we  must  try  to  possess  our- 
selves of  some  of  those  great  fundamental  truths 
which  underlie  the  relation  of  the  law  to  the  gospel, 
and  in  stating  these,  I  go  no  further  than  Christ's 
own  statements. 

The  first  truth  we  are  to  bear  in  mind  is,  that  the 
WHOLE  LAW  OF  GoD  IS  ONE.  God's  law  is  the  decla- 
ration of  His  will ;  and  God's  perfect  will  never 
changes,  and,  therefore,  God's  law  is  like  Himself — 
the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever ;  or,   as  the 


(^  Faith  and  Character, 

Psalmist  says,  "All  His  commandments  are  sure. 
They  stand  fast  forever  and  ever,  and  are  done  in 
truth  and  uprightness."  So  that  it  is  essentially  im- 
possible that  one  part  of  God's  law  should  ever  con- 
tradict any  other  part,  or  that  the  whole  law  as  re- 
vealed in  the  Levitical  Code,  the  Psalms,  the  Proph- 
ets, the  Gospels,  and  Epistles,  should  be  other  than 
one.  At  the  same  time  it  is  true  that  this  law  may 
develop  itself  by  successive  stages,  and  that  it  may 
manifest  itself  in  different  ways  in  these  different 
stages.  The  best  illustration  of  this  is  found  in  a 
tree.  Under  ground,  among  the  rocks,  among  the 
subterranean  springs,  the  tree  develops  in  the  form 
of  roots.  Above  ground  we  find  the  tree  developing 
in  the  form  of  trunk.  We  go  higher,  and  our  tree  is 
branches,  and  then  leaves,  and  blossoms  and  fruit. 
The  tree  is  one.  Fruit  and  roots  are  the  extremes  of 
one  perfect  organism  ;  yet  what  a  difference  between 
the  juicy  fruit,  swinging  in  the  fresh  air  and  clear  sun- 
light, and  the  clammy,  tough,  dirty  roots  in  the 
depths  of  the  mould.  Just  so  God's  law  is  one  law, 
whether  we  see  it  in  its  lower  or  in  its  higher  stage. 
Love  and  law  are  not  distinct  growths.  On  the  con- 
trary, we  are  told  that  love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law. 
All  that  is  essential  to  law  remains  in  love.  They  are 
not  disjoined  any  more  than  the  root  and  the  fruit  are 
disjoined  in  the  tree ;  on  the  contrary,  law  runs  up 
into  love,  and  law  is  never  seen  at  its  best  and  high- 
est until  it  is  seen  fulfilled  in  one  word  :  '^  Thou 
shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and 
thy  neighbor  as  thyself." 


The    Wardship  of  the  Law,  67 

Now,  Paul  says  the  law  brought  us  to  Christ ;  but 
when  we  get  to  Christ,  we  do  not  find  that  we  are 
done  with  the  law.  On  the  contrary,  we  find  Christ 
standing  for  the  integrity  of  the  law.  "  Not  a  jot  or 
tittle  shall  pass  away  till  all  be  fulfilled.  I  came  to 
fulfil  the  law."  And  yet,  we  find  scattered  through 
the  New  Testament  words  like  these:  ''Ye  are  not 
under  the  law,  but  under  grace."  ''Having  abol- 
ished in  his  flesh  the  law  of  commandments  con- 
tained in  ordinances,"  and  others  to  the  same  effect. 
Are  Paul  and  Christ  then  at  variance  ?  Are  we,  in 
one  part  of  Scripture,  told  that  we  are  still  under  the 
law,  and  in  another  that  we  are  no  longer  under  the 
law? 

There  is  no  contradiction,  but  rather  perfect  har- 
mony. And  here  we  reach  our  second  general  truth 
which  you  have  already  anticipated,  namely,  that  we 

ARE  TO  DISTINGUISH  BETWEEN  THE    SUBSTANCE  AND    THE 

FORM  OF  THE  LAW  ;  between  the  divine  thought,  the 
divine,  eternal,  binding  truth,  which  is  the  essence  of 
the  law,  and  the  mere  formal/r<r<:^// or  jtj;;/^^;/ by  which 
it  was  conveyed.  As  we  have  seen  that  God's  law 
was  revealed  to  men  through  successive  stages,  in 
ways  suitable  to  their  grade  of  intelligence  or  of 
moral  development,  so  it  is  not  difficult  to  conceive 
that  the  law  might,  at  a  later  stage,  drop  off  from  it- 
self much  which  belonged  to  an  earlier  stage,  and 
yet  remain  essentially  the  same,  unchanged  and  un- 
changeable law  ;  just  as  the  tree  drops  off  in  the 
branches  the  mould  which  clings  about  the  roots, 
and  drops   off  in  the  blossom  and  fruit  the  bark  of 


68  Faith  and  Character. 

the  trunk  and  branches,  while  root  and  trunk  and 
branch  and  blossom  yet  continue  to  be  one  tree. 

And  so  we  see  that  it  was.  The  law,  for  example, 
contained  the  great  principle  of  satisfaction.  Sin 
must  be  atoned  for.  The  form  under  which  the 
Mosaic  law  taught  and  enforced  that  truth,  was  that 
of  animal  sacrifices.  The  Levitical  altars  flowed  with 
the  blood  of  bulls  and  of  goats  offered  in  sacrifice  for 
sin.  Now  when  Christ  came,  he  did  away  with  all 
this  ;  but  did  he  do  away  with  the  law  of  sacrifice  for 
sin  ?  Nay,  he  set  the  eternal  seal  of  God  on  that 
law,  by  oiTering  himself  a  sacrifice.  Not  one  jot  or 
one  tittle  passed  from  the  law  that  sin  must  be  atoned 
for.  Only  the  earlier  form  and  mode  of  expressing 
and  working  out  the  law  passed  away.  And  hence, 
says  the  writer  to  the  Hebrews,  **  For  the  law,  hav- 
ing a  shadow  of  good  things  to  come,  and  not  the 
very  image  of  the  things,  can  never  with  those  sacri- 
fices  which   they   offered   year  by  year   continually 

make  th^  comers  thereunto  perfect It  is  not 

possible  that  the  blood  of  bulls  and  of  goats  should 
take  away  sins In  burnt  offerings  and  sacri- 
fices for  sin  thou  hast  had  no  pleasure.  Then  said  I 
(Christ),  Lo,  I  come  (in  the  volume  of  the  book  it  is 

written  of  me)  to  do  Thy  will,  O  God He  tak- 

eth  away  the  first,  that  he  may  establish  the  second  ; " 
taketli  away  the  shadoAV  that  he  may  give  the  sub- 
stance ;  docs  not  take  away  the  law  of  sacrifice  for 
sin,  but  fulfils  that  very  law,  by  the  offering  of  him- 
self, and  makes  it  as  binding  upon  a  penitent  sinner 
as  ever  it  was  in  Moses'  day,  that  he  should  bring  to 


TJie    Wards  J  lip  of  the  Law.  69 

God  an  offering  for  his  sin,  even  the  body  of  Jesus 
Christ  offered  once  for  all. 

Or,  take  the  numerous  sanitary  provisions  of  the 
Levitical  law,  so  necessarily  minute  and  specific  for 
a  people  so  long  enslaved  and  ignorant  of  the  most 
ordinary  laws  of  decency.  No  Christian  thinks  of 
carrying  out  these  precepts  now ;  and  yet  the  truth 
which  underlay  all  those  precepts,  the  broad  general 
obligation  they  conveyed,  was  not  at  all  impaired  by 
Christ.  It  stands  to-day,  a  law  lor  the  Christian  just 
as  much  as  for  the  Israelite  at  the  foot  of  Sinai — that 
the  body  is  the  temple  of  God,  and  that  he  who  wil- 
fully neglects  or  abuses  it  sins  against  God.  "  What ! 
know  ye  not  that  your  body  is  the  temple  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  which  is  in  you,  which  ye  have  of  God, 
and  ye  are  not  your  own  ?  For  ye  are  bought  with  a 
price :  therefore  glorify  God  in  your  body,  and  in 
your  spirit,  which  are  God's."  The  very  fact  which 
marks  the  transition  from  the  old  dispensation  to  the 
new,  the  death  of  Jesus  Christ  for  the  world,  is  used 
to  emphasize  this  old  physical  law.  *'  Ye  are  bought 
with  a  price,  therefore  glorify  God  in  your  body." 

See  how  this  fact  is  carried  out  in  Christ's  fulfil- 
ment of  the  law.  The  old  Mosaic  law  was  separative. 
In  order  to  carry  out  His  purpose  of  making  a  pecu- 
liar, chosen  people,  God  found  it  necessary  to  begin 
with  physical  separation.  They  were  not  ready  for 
the  higher  development  of  that  idea — the  separation 
in  spirit  and  character  from  the  men  of  the  world. 
God  desired  to  fasten  in  their  minds  the  thought  that 
they  were  a  people  set  apart  to  His  service.     So  He 


70  Faith  and  Character. 

began  by  separating  them  from  the  nations  about 
them,  and  forbidding  their  intercourse  and  intermar- 
riage with  the  heathen.  When  Christ  came,  he  found 
that  the  people  had  not  gotten  beyond  this  lower 
phase  of  the  idea  of  separation.  The  great  thing 
with  them  w^as  not  to  violate  the  letter  of  the  old 
law  ;  not  to  eat  wuth  publicans  and  sinners.  You  re- 
member that,  after  Christ's  ascension,  Peter  was  re- 
buked for  eating  with  the  family  of  the  gentile  Cor- 
nelius. And  so  little  was  the  essence  of  that  law  of 
separation  appreciated,  so  far  w^ere  the  very  leaders 
of  the  Jews  from  being  morally  purer  than  those  with 
whom  they  refused  intercourse,  that  our  Lord  said  to 
the  priests  and  elders  :  *'  The  publicans  and  the  har- 
lots go  into  the  kingdom  of  God  before  you."  Christ 
was  continually  shocking  the  legalists  by  seeming  to 
break  that  law.  *'  He  eateth  with  publicans  and  sin- 
ners "  was  one  of  the  stock  charges  against  him.  And 
yet  he  did  not  break  the  law,  and  he  meant  that  no 
Christian  should  ever  break  it  in  the  real  essence  of  its 
meaning,  which  he  taught  the  world  by  being  himself, 
and  commanding  his  disciples  to  be  "  holy,  harmless, 
undefiled,  separate  from  sinners  ; "  and  Paul,  there- 
fore, merely  gives  us  the  spirit  of  the  old  law  of  sepa- 
ration when  he  says  :  "  Be  not  conformed  to  this  world, 
but  be  ye  transformed  by  the  renewing  of  your  viind" 

There,  again,  was  the  Sabbath.  In  nothing  did 
Christ  so  shock  and  exasperate  the  teachers  of  the 
law  as  by  his  behavior  on  that  day  ;  and  yet  he  did 
not  destroy  the  law ;  he  fulfilled  it,  and  set  a  far 
higher  character  upon  it  than  it  had  in  the  popular 


The    Wardship  of  the  Law.  71 

conception.  He  observed  it  as  a  day  of  worship,  of 
rest,  of  cheerful  festivity,  and  not  by  refusing  to  help 
the  lame  or  the  blind,  or  to  pluck  the  ears  to  satisfy 
his  hunger,  nor  by  repreaching  the  puerilities  of  the 
Rabbis  about  putting  out  a  lamp  kindled  before  the 
Sabbath,  or  preventing  the  dropping  of  oil  in  a  press, 
or  forbidding  the  sick  to  send  for  a  physician,  or  a 
tailor  to  go  out  with  his  needle  on  Friday  night,  lest 
he  should  forget  it  and  break  the  Sabbath  by  carry- 
ing it  about. 

And  not  only  so,  but  instead  of  letting  down  the 
claims  of  the  law  Christ  showed  men  that  it  reached 
far  deeper  than  they  had  thought,  and  told  them  that 
unless  their  righteousness  should  exceed  that  of  those 
who  were  their  highest  examples  of  legal  strictness — 
the  Scribes  and  Pharisees — ^they  should  not  enter  into 
the  kingdom  of  heaven.  To  take  a  single  instance, 
there  was  the  law  of  murder.  The  strictest  Jew  never 
thought  that  it  reached  beyond  the  taking  of  human 
life.  He  might  hate  his  enemy  as  intensely  as  he 
pleased,  and  so  long  as  he  kept  his  hands  unstained 
with  his  blood  he  was  guiltless.  What  must  have 
been  his  surprise  when  he  heard  this  Jesus,  whom  he 
was  wont  to  look  upon  with  disgust  and  horror,  as  a 
breaker  of  Moses'  law,  saying:  *'The  law  means 
more,  not  less  than  you  think.  Think  you  only  he 
who  kills  is  in  danger  of  the  judgment  ?  I  say  unto 
you  that  anger  and  hatred  are  the  roots  of  murder, 
and  are  of  one  piece  with  it,  and  whosoever  is  angry 
with  his  brother,  without  a  cause,  shall  be  in  danger 
of  judgment." 


72  Faith  and  Character. 

With  these  two  truths  clearly  before  us,  namely, 
that  God's  law  is  one,  and  that  its  interpretation 
may  broaden,  and  its  letter  and  form  disappear  with 
the  progress  of  the  race,  while  its  substance  and  es- 
sence remain  unchanged,  we  are,  I  think,  prepared  to 
see  that  our  pedagogue,  the  law,  brings  us  to  Christ 
in  its  own  interest,  for  its  own  higher,  broader,  deep- 
er, more  spiritual  interpretation.  We  are  not  done 
with  law  when  we  get  to  Christ,  any  more  than  the 
Roman  boy  was  done  with  obligation  and  obedience 
to  his  father  when  he  passed  from  under  the  peda- 
gogue's care.  Paul's  very  figure  teaches  us  that,  if  we 
study  it ;  for  you  know  that,  according  to  the  Roman 
law,  a  father's  dominion  over  his  son  remained  abso- 
lute, even  after  he  came  of  age.  Parental  affection 
indeed  might  allow  him  the  largest  liberty  ;  but  ac- 
cording to  the  law  he  might  exert  his  authority  over 
him.  The  son  might  be  a  magistrate  or  a  triumphant 
general,  but  the  father  could  chastise  him  with  stripes, 
put  him  in  prison,  sell  him  into  slavery,  or  take  his 
life,  and  the  law  would  justify  him. 

So  Paul's  picture  tells  us  that  the  law,  in  bringing 
us  to  Christ,  while  it  leads  us  into  the  liberty  of  sons, 
does  not  relieve  us  from  the  obligation  of  sons.  God 
is  still  our  Father ;  Christ  himself  teaches  us  to  ad- 
dress him  thus  ;  a  father,  who,  in  giving  us  the  liberty 
of  dear  children,  none  the  less  says  :  "  If  ye  love  me, 
keep  my  commandments."  And  therefore  Paul  says, 
in  this  same  letter:  ''For,  brethren,  ye  have  been 
called  unto  liberty  :  only  use  not  liberty  for  an  occa- 
sion to  the  llesh,  but  by  love  serve  one  another.      For 


The    Wardship  of  the  Law,  71 

all  the  law  is  fulfilled  in  one  word."  Even  love  refuses 
to  separate  itself  from  law.  The  liberty  of  sonship  re- 
fuses to  be  divorced  from  law,  for  you  remember  that 
James  says  that  the  man  shall  be  blessed  in  his  deed 
who  looks  into  the  perfect  law  of  liberty  and  contin- 
ues therein,  being  a  doer  of  the  work. 

And  yet,  you  can  understand  how  a  man  may  live 
under  law,  and  the  same  law,  too,  which  shaped  his 
childish  life,  and  yet  live  a  man's  life,  a  free,  broad, 
generous  life,  as  different  from  the  life  of  childhood, 
as  a  blossom  is  from  a  root.  Here  is  a  boy,  for 
instance,  who  begins  to  study  mathematics.  The 
teacher  gives  him  specific  rules.  ''Do  thus,  and  you 
will  add  numbers.  Do  so,  and  you  will  subtract  or 
multiply."  It  is  not  a  matter  of  principles  or  laws  at 
all.  The  boy  has,  and  can  have,  no  conception  of  the 
great  fundamental  laws  of  numbers  and  of  their  rela- 
tions. He  takes  his  arithmetic  and  studies  the  rule 
for  decimals  or  long  division,  and  does  his  sums  by 
the  process  laid  down  in  the  rule.  But  one  day,  the 
boy  comes  to  the  teacher  with  his  sum  worked  out  by 
a  process  not  laid  down  in  his  arithmetic.  He  has 
thought  it  out  by  a  process  of  his  own.  The  rules  he 
has  been  practising  have  led  him  unconsciously  up  to 
certain  great  mathematical  principles  which  are  not 
confined  in  their  working  out  to  the  one  little  rule  of 
the  arithmetic,  but  are  capable  of  a  variety  of  expres- 
sions. Is  the  teacher  angry  because  the  sum  was  not 
done  by  the  rule  ?  Is  he  not  rather  delighted  ?  He 
sees,  in  the  lad's  overstepping  the  rule,  the  very  result 
at  which  he  has  been  aiming.     All  the  rules  were  di- 


74  Faith  and  Character. 

rected  to  bring  about  this  grasp  of  principles  which 
he  has  obtained.  Henceforth,  he  will  not  be  bound 
by  the  rules,  but  will  he  therefore  violate  the  great 
laws  of  mathematics  ?  Will  he  not  be  as  much  under 
law  as  ever,  yea,  under  the  same  law,  when  he  meas- 
ures the  orbits  of  planets  or  weighs  suns,  as  when  he 
repeated  the  multiplication  table,  or  cast  up  the  little 
columns  in  simple  addition  ? 

So  it  is  in  moral  development.  You  want  to  teach 
a  child  the  great  principle  of  order.  You  begin  with 
specific  rules.  **  You  must  put  your  books  in  such  a 
place,  and  your  hat  in  such  a  place.  You  must  study 
such  and  such  hours.  You  may  amuse  yourself  at 
such  times."  The  time  finally  comes  when  all  these 
rules  drop  off  of  themselves.  They  are  no  longer 
needed.  He  has  gotten  hold  of  the  great  truth  of 
order,  and  its  obligation  has  its  grip  upon  him,  and 
that  was  all  that  the  rules  were  intended  for.  That 
being  reached,  he  may  be  orderly  and  systematic  in 
his  own  way.  The  great  point  is  that,  however  his 
way  may  differ  from  that  prescribed  by  his  old  rules, 
he  is  still  under  law,  and  under  the  same  law — the 
law  of  order. 

So  then,  when  God's  law,  the  pedagogue,  the  law 
of  commandments,  precepts,  prohibitions,  hands  a 
man  over  to  Christ,  it  introduces  him  to  a  life  which 
is  just  as  much  under  the  power  of  law  and  of  the 
same  law  as  ever.  Law  is  not  abolished,  but  whereas 
formerly  the  law  was  applied  to  the  man  from  with- 
out, it  now  begins  to  work  from  within  the  man.  In 
other  words,  he  lives  by  the  law  of  God  written  upon 


The   Wardship  of  the  Law.  75 

his  conscience  and  wrought  into  his  life.  He  is  a  law 
unto  himself.  He  is  no  longer  a  moral  schoolboy,  but 
a  man  in  Christ  Jesus.  The  law  of  precepts  has  been 
silently  preparing  the  man  to  be  kindled  and  quick- 
ened into  life  by  contact  with  Christ's  life.  You 
know  how,  at  the  sacred  season  in  Rome,  the  work- 
men are  engaged  for  days  in  arranging  the  lines  of 
lamps  over  the  dome  and  portico  of  St.  Peter's  ;  and 
when  at  last  the  hour  strikes,  on  a  sudden  the  whole 
gigantic  structure  bursts  into  flame.  Just  so  law 
draws  the  lines  of  obedience  and  duty  ;  but  these, 
however  symmetrical  and  sharp,  are  dead  and  cold 
until  they  feel  Christ's  touch  ;  then  the  life  kindles 
and  glows.     The  lines  of  law  are  all  irradiated. 

But,  remember,  this  comes  only  in  the  full  and  free 
surrender  of  the  life  to  Christ.  That  surrender  is  faith, 
and  the  law  brings  us  to  Christ  that  we  may  be  justi- 
fied by  faith.  When  a  man  gives  himself  up  in  faith 
to  Christ,  accepts  his  offer  to  make  good  his  offences 
against  the  law,  opens  his  heart  to  the  full  power  of 
Christ's  character  and  example,  gives  himself  up  to 
the  grand  enthusiasm  of  love  for  Christ,  then  and 
only  then  he  is  in  right  relations  both  to  Christ  and 
to  the  law.  Then  he  is  justified ;  then  he  moves  in 
harmony  with  God  and  with  God's  law  and  order ; 
then  he  fulfils  the  law  under  the  impulse  of  love,  and 
walks  in  loving  obedience,  yet  with  the  freedom  of 
a  child  at  home. 

We  see,  then,  that  we  have  lighted  upon  no  strange 
or  arbitrary  fact.  We  see  that  it  is  the  tendency  of 
precepts  and  rules  everywhere  to  expand  into  some- 


^6  Faith  and  Character. 

thing  larger  than  themselves,  and  that  God's  law  of 
commandments  contained  in  ordinances  is  no  excep- 
tion, but  leads  up  to  Christ,  and  to  that  broad,  free, 
generous  life,  which  only  faith  in  Christ,  and  love  for 
Christ  will  enable  us  to  live.  But  this  truth  bears 
with  especial  force  upon  those  whose  lives  are  guided 
merely  by  moral  precept.  You  say  you  are  a  moralist. 
God  forbid  I  should  quarrel  with  morality.  You  say 
you  try  to  live  by  God's  law  ;  that  you  study  His  pre- 
cepts and  try  to  keep  them.  All  well.  But  I  take  your 
own  ground.  I  stand  beside  you  on  the  law,  and  I 
ask — How  far  does  the  law  lead  you  ?  Let  me  remind 
you  of  that  good  centurion  Cornelius — a  moral  man, 
yea,  a  devout  moralist ;  yea,  more,  told  by  an  angel 
from  heaven  that  his  good  deeds  had  been  pleasing  to 
God.  And  yet  he  w^as  told  that  there  was  another 
step  yet  to  be  taken,  and  that  he  would  find  out  what 
it  was  by  sending  for  Christ's  apostle.  When  Peter 
came  he  told  him  that  needful  thing  was  faith  in 
Christ.  So  I  say  to  you  as  a  lover  of  the  law,  as  a 
man  who  professes  to  stand  by  the  law,  as  one  who 
praises  the  ''sermon  on  the  mount,"  the  law  carries 
Christ  with  it.  The  law  was  not  framed  to  be  an  end 
unto  itself,  but  the  law  was  to  bring  us  to  Christ. 
Take  away  Christ,  and  the  law  is  meaningless  ;  and 
therefore  I  say  that,  as  a  mere  moralist,  you  are 
only  on  the  first  stage  of  the  law.  You  have  not 
carried  out  the  law  to  its  full  development ;  if  you 
had,  it  would  have  brought  you  to  Christ  inevitably. 
Let  me  urge  that  point.  As  a  legalist  you  are 
committed  to  Christ ;  by  the  very  terms  of  the  law 


The   Wardship  of  the  Law.  77 

you  must  come  to  Christ ;  as  a  professed  lover  and 
keeper  of  the  law  you  are  committed  to  faith  in 
Christ,  for  Christ  is  the  end  of  the  law,  and  the  law 
was  our  pedagogue  to  bring  us  to  Christ.  And  you 
cannot  say  that  if  Christ  be  proven  to  be  a  myth,  and 
faith  in  Christ  a  fond  delusion,  you  can  fall  back  on 
the  law.  No,  the  law  means  Christ,  and  Christ  and 
the  law  stand  or  fall  together.  I  stand  with  you 
in  your  admiration  of  the  "sermon  on  the  mount." 
You  tell  me  law  is  emphasized  there  by  Christ  him- 
self;  but  do  you  not  hear  Christ  say,  "The  fulfil- 
ment of  the  law  is  in  meV  Is  not  Christ  saying 
just  what  Paul  does,  that  the  law  was  to  lead  us  to 
Christ  ?  But  you  say,  there  is  nothing  there  about 
atonement,  about  a  redeemer.  No,  not  in  words  ; 
but  try  you,  my  friend,  to  keep  that  law  in  the 
"sermon  on  the  mount,"  to  keep  it  in  its  deep  sense, 
as  a  law  not  only  of  outward  action,  but  of  spiritual 
condition,  and  I  am  mistaken  if  you  shall  have  gone 
far  in  your  task  without  breaking  helplessly  down, 
and  finding  that  the  work  can  be  done  only  through 
the  indwelling  of  the  new  life,  the  life  of  faith  in 
Christ  the  redeemer.  So  it  will  be  just  as  Paul  says  : 
"  For  what  the  law  could  not  do,  in  that  it  was  weak 
through  the  flesh,  God,  sending  His  own  Son  in  the 
likeness  of  sinful  flesh,  and  for  sin,  condemned  sin  in 
the  flesh  :  that  the  righteousness  of  the  law  might  be 
fulfilled  in  us,  who  walk  not  after  the  flesh,  but  after 
the  Spirit."  May  Christ  shed  His  own  light  upon  the 
law,  and  may  the  law,  which  you  reverence,  lead  you 
to  its  legitimate  end — a  perfect  man  in  Christ. 


SONSHIP   BY   RECEIVING 
CHRIST. 


JOHN    I. 

(12)  But  as  many  as  received  him,  to  them  gave  he  power 
to  become  the  sons  of  God,  even  to  them  that  beheve 
on  his  name. 


V. 

SONSHIP   BY   RECEIVING   CHRIST. 

To  be  a  son  of  God  !  I  wonder  if  we  realize  all 
that  is  contained  in  that  phrase.  Years  ago,  this 
whole  nation  was  stirred  to  admiration  and  homage 
by  the  visit  of  a  mere  boy,  not  remarkable  in  himself, 
but  the  son  of  the  Queen  of  Great  Britain.  How 
many  thousands  envied  his  lot.  Yet  such  sonship  is 
insignificant  compared  with  this  which  our  text  pre- 
sents— to  be  a  son  of  the  King  of  kings  and  Lord  of 
lords.  The  origin  of  this  sonship  is  the  highest  con- 
ceivable. The  mould  in  which  it  is  cast  is  divine  ; 
for  whom  God  called  as  sons,  He  tells  us,  He  predes- 
tined to  be  conformed  to  the  image  of  His  only  be- 
gotten Son,  that  he  might  be  the  first-born  of  a  glori- 
ous train  of  brethren.  Its  destiny — can  we  believe 
it  ? — is  to  share  the  glory  of  Christ  in  glory ;  for  if 
children,  then  heirs,  heirs  of  God,  and  joint  heirs 
with  Christ,  that  we  may  be  glorified  together.  Men's 
ideas  of  a  son  of  God  are  often  strangely  meagre. 
Even  Christian  men  sometimes  fall  into  the  way  of 
regarding  him  as  a  starveling,  picked  up  out  of  vaga- 
bondage and  misery  by  God's  kindness,  and  just  kept 
out  of  perdition  by  a  special  stretch  of  God's  mercy. 
That  is  not  the  scale  on  which  God  does  a  work  which 


82  Faith  and  Character. 

commenced  with  the  princely  gift  of  Jesus  Christ. 
The  work  is  carried  through  on  the  same  scale  ;  and 
being  made  a  new  creature  in  Christ  Jesus,  means  not 
only  forgiveness  of  sins,  but  *'a  far  more  exceeding 
and  eternal  weight  of  glory."  That  is  the  best  Paul 
can  do  to  express  it.  "Whom  He  justified,  them  He 
also  glorified." 

A  large  part  of  the  world  is  indifferent  to  this 
whole  matter ;  but  in  every  age  there  are  those  to 
whom  it  is  the  chief  question  :  seekers  after  God 
asking,  "  How  shall  we  become  God's  children  ?" 

The  text  gives  to  all  who  thus  seek,  a  plain  answer. 
It  is  speaking  of  society  at  the  first  coming  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  It  was  indifferent  to  Him.  ''  The 
light  shone  in  darkness,  and  the  darkness  compre- 
hended it  not.  He  came  unto  His  own,  and  His  own 
received  Him  not."  But  there  were  some  who  did 
become  sons  of  God  ;  some  who  were  put  in  posses- 
sion of  that  secret  after  which  so  many  sincere  souls 
in  all  ages  had  been  feeling.  They  were  those  and 
those  only  who  received  Him.  To  them  gave  He  power 
to  become  sons  of  God. 

As  many  as  received  Him.  My  sermon  is  mainly 
on  this  word  "received."  The  statement  of  the  text 
is  that,  to  become  a  son  of  God,  is  to  receive  God  in 
Christ  Jesus. 

That  seems  simple  enough,  and  yet  I  am  mistaken 
if  some  of  you  do  not  find  yourselves  fighting  away 
from  it  before  we  leave  it.  Indeed  the  very  trouble 
is,  that  it  is  altogether  too  simple  to  not  a  few  minds. 
It  seems  such  a  puerile  way  of  reaching  so  great  a 


Sons  hip  by  Receiving  Christ.  Z"^ 

result  In  a  transaction  between  giver  and  receiver, 
the  receiver  always  makes  the  smaller  figure,  and 
men  do  not  like  to  make  a  small  figure  in  their  moral 
struggles,  any  more  than  in  their  business  or  in  their 
warfare.  They  want  results  associated  with  some  he- 
roism, some  deserving  effort  which  shall  throw  them 
into  prominence.  And  it  is  just  at  this  point  that 
the  gospel  economy  makes  an  issue.  Where,  men 
emphasize  doing,  it  emphasizes  receiving.  All  the 
old  economies  are  in  a  ferment  of  temple-building, 
sacrificing,  pouring  out  of  purchase-money,  consult- 
ing oracles,  going  on  pilgrimages,  in  order  to  win 
this  blessing  of  divine  sonship.  The  receiving  is  to 
come  after  all  this  ;  after  the  sacrifice  has  bled,  the 
treasury  been  drained,  and  the  penance  undergone. 
In  the  new  Christian  order,  receiving  comes  first. 
Man  does  not  become  a  son  after  he  has  painfully 
worked  his  way  up  to  God.  He  has  no  power  to 
work  up.  He  must  receive  it  from  God  to  begin 
with.  He  becomes  a  son,  ''not  of  blood,  nor  of  the 
will  of  the  flesh,  nor  of  the  will  of  man,  but  of  God," 
and  by  receiving  God.  '*To  as  many  as  received 
Him  to  them  gave  He  power  to  become  the  sons  of 
God." 

Some  one  will  perhaps  say :  ''  Is  not  this  the  doc- 
trine of  faith  without  works  ?  "  It  is  astonishing  how 
fearful  many  people  are  that  Christ  will  not  give  them 
enough  to  do.  But  so  far  as  Christ's  gospel  is  con- 
cerned they  have  no  cause  to  be  uneasy  on  that  point 
In  whatever  the  Bible  may  be  supposed  to  be  defect- 
ive as  a  manual  of  living,  it  never  fails  to  keep  a  man 


84  Faith  and  Character. 

busy.  No  other  book  presents  such  objects  of  effort ; 
no  other  kindles  such  impulses  to  work  ;  no  other 
so  urges  and  emphasizes  work.  Work  is  not  turned 
out  of  doors  when  Christ  comes  in  as  master  of  the 
house.  It  is  only  put  in  its  right  place.  It  is  de- 
throned as  the  instrument  of  the  new  birth  and  life 
in  Christ ;  it  is  exalted  as  the  frtiit  of  that  new  life. 
Doing  does  not  make  men  sons  of  God,  but  true  sons 
of  God  are  the  most  active  of  men.  Christian  life  is 
made  up  of  faith  and  works,  as  man  is  of  soul  and 
body  ;  but  faith  comes  first  in  that  life,  and  expresses 
itself  in  w^orks.  The  people  asked  Christ,  "What 
shall  we  do  that  we  might  work  the  works  of  God  ? " 
Our  Lord  replied  :  ''  This  is  the  work  of  God,  that  ye 
believe  on  Him  whom  He  hath  sent."  Here  John  is 
not  discussing  the  matter  of  works  at  all.  Men  are 
out  of  their  right  relation  to  God;  are  not  sons  but 
prodigals,  and  he  is  telling  them  how  to  get  back  and 
become  sons  ;  and  he  says  that,  in  the  establishment 
of  this  right  relation,  man  must  take  the  position  of  a 
receiver  :  only  as  he  receives  God  in  Christ  can  he 
become  a  son  of  God. 

Let  us  inquire  whether,  in  the  light  of  ordinary 
laws,  this  is  a  strange  or  an  isolated  fact. 

We  hear  and  talk  a  great  deal  about  the  wonderful 
achievements  of  men.  We  flatter  ourselves  that  our 
own  doing  is  largely  concerned  with  what  we  attain  ; 
and  yet,  when  we  get  back  to  the  fundamental  con- 
ditions of  success,  we  find  that  they  are,  without  ex- 
ception, gifts,  and  that  our  success,  after  all,  is  based 
on  what  we  have  received.     Our  very  existence  was  a 


Sons/tip  by  Receiving  Christ.  85 

gift  to  begin  with.  You  are  a  prosperous  man  to-day. 
You  own  houses  and  lands  ;  or  you  are  a  power  in  law 
or  in  medicine  ;  and  you  say  you  are  a  self-made  man. 
You  had  no  advantages  of  birth  or  of  patronage.  You 
just  worked  your  own  way  up.  My  dear  friend,  you 
are  quite  mistaken.  The  first  essentials  of  your  suc- 
cess you  received  ;  your  reason,  your  sight,  your  hear- 
ing, your  health,  what  had  you  to  do  with  those  ? 
Then  there  were  ten  thousand  facts  and  influences  in 
your  time,  in  the  civilization  in  which  you  lived, 
which  were  the  fruits  of  all  the  experience  of  the  past, 
which  prepared  the  way  and  the  conditions  of  your 
success,  and  which  you  simply  received  as  matters  of 
course.  There  were  moral  influences  which  you 
breathed  in  with  the  atmosphere  of  your  childhood — 
floating  round  you  in  your  home,  and  in  the  society 
about  you,  and  in  the  spirit  of  your  age  ;  and  you  re- 
ceived from  these  a  basis  ready  made,  on  which  you 
climbed  to  your  present  prosperity.  To  take  a  single 
instance  :  you,  as  a  successful,  educated  man,  are 
the  product  of  a  Christian  civilization.  You  did  not 
help  to  make  it.  You  found  it  made  for  you.  You 
only  received  it.  Is  there  not  a  familiar,  ever}^-day 
truth  as  well  as  a  spiritual  truth  in  our  Lord's  words  ? 
"  I  sent  you  to  reap  that  whereon  ye  bestowed  no 
labor.  Other  men  labored,  and  ye  are  entered  into 
their  labors." 

And  indeed,  do  we  not  utter  this  truth,  even  though 
we  do  not  recognize  it,  in  our  common  speech  ? 
When  we  spejak  of  a  man  of  genius,  the  peculiar 
range  and  quality  of  whose  power  other  men  cannot 


86  Faith  and  Character. 

win  by  study  and  labor,  who  is  bom  on  a  higher 
plane  than  other  men,  do  we  not  say  that  such  a  man 
is  endowed,  or,  to  use  the  popular  word,  **  gifted  ?" 

You  can  supply  for  yourselves  abundant  illustra- 
tions in  the  same  line,  all  going  to  prove  that  when 
we  meet  this  truth  in  the  spiritual  region,  we  have  no 
right  to  be  startled  as  by  an  isolated  or  an  arbitrary 
fact.  The  fact  is  only  a  counterpart  of  what  we  see 
here  ;  that  the  very  beginnings  and  foundations  of 
man's  life  and  success  are  in  what  he  receives — in 
that  which  is  done  for  him  and  on  him.  If  his  natu- 
ral existence  is  a  gift,  why  should  his  spiritual  life  be 
any  less  a  gift  ?  If  the  essential  conditions  of  his 
happiness  and  prosperity  and  usefulness  as  a  son  and 
as  a  citizen  are  furnished  him  and  received  by  him  in 
the  one  case,  why  not  in  the  other  ? 

And  as  you  study  the  successive  stages  of  the  life 
of  a  son  of  God,  you  find  him  at  each  stage  in  the 
attitude  of  a  receiver.  Before  he  becomes  a  son  of 
God,  he  is,  if  the  Bible  is  to  be  believed,  at  enmity 
with  God.  His  heart  is  set  upon  his  own  ends,  and 
not  on  doing  God's  will.  Now,  if  there  arise  in  him 
any  better  sentiment,  any  desire  for  God,  any  distaste 
for  his  sinful  life,  these  are  not  produced  by  his  own 
will.  They  do  not  grow  up  naturally  in  his  own 
heart ;  they  are  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God, 
drawing  him  to  God.  The  very  impulse  to  become  a 
son  of  God  comes  to  him  from  outside  himself,  and 
is  received  by  him.  Suppose  you  take  a  child  into 
your  household.  He  has  been  under  the  care  of 
those  who  have  taught  him  to  hate  you.     He  has 


Sonship  by  Receiving  Christ.  87 

been  made  to  believe  that  you  are  harsh,  cruel,  arbi- 
trary ;  that  your  home   is  a  gloomy  place  ;  and  he 
comes  into  your  house  reluctantly,  and  keeps  away 
from  you  as  much  as  possible,  and  is  cold  and  re- 
sei-ved,   morose  and  rebellious.      But  you  surround 
him  with  an  atmosphere  of  love.     You  speak  to  him 
kindly.     You  give  him  many  privileges.     By  and  by 
a   change   comes   over   his   feelings.     He   begins  to 
desire  to  know  you  better ;  his  reserv^e  melts  away, 
he  seeks  your  society,  and  finally  comes  to  you  and 
confesses  his  error,  and  gives  himself  up  to  you  with 
a  child's  abandonment  of  affection.     I  ask,  whence 
came  the  impulse  to  this  change  of  feeling  ?     It  was 
not  self-generated.     It  came  from  you.     It  was  cre- 
ated by  your  affection  showm  to  him.     The  attraction 
over  him  was  exerted  by  your  character.      Is  not  this 
just  what  John  says  :  ''We  love  Him  because  He  first 
loved  us  ? "     Is  it  strange,  as  we  come  to  know  some- 
thing of  the  hardness  and  wilfulness  of  the  human 
heart,  that  Christ  said,  ''No  man  can  come  unto  me 
except  the  Father  which  hath  sent  me  draw  him  ? " 
So,  then,  in  the  very  first  movement  of  a  sinful  man's 
desire  toward  God,  he  is  a  receiver.      The    impulse 
comes  from  God. 

Go  on  a  step  farther,  to  repentance.  Is  that  a 
matter  of  one's  will?  "Perhaps,"  says  Coleridge, 
"the  repentance  required  in  Scripture,  the  passing 
into  a  new  and  contrary  principle  of  action,  is  in  the 
sinner's  own  power,  at  his  own  liking.  He  has  but 
to  open  his  eyes  to  the  sin,  and  the  tears  are  close  at 
hand  to  wash  it  away.     Verily  the  tenet  of  transub- 


88  Faith  and  Character, 

stantiation  is  scarcely  at  greater  variance  with  the 
common-sense  and  experience  of  mankind,  or  borders 
more  closely  on  a  contradiction  in  terms,  than  this 
self-change."  Ah,  no.  You  cannot  repent  at  will. 
The  change  of  mind,  the  changed  principle  of  life, 
must  be  received  in  receiving  God  to  melt  with  the 
Spirit's  breath  the  ice  about  your  heart ;  to  break  as 
with  hammer  and  lire  its  llintiness.  Men  do  not 
comprehend  the  nature  of  repentance  when  they 
think  they  can  repent  at  will.  Too  often  it  is  repre- 
sented to  them  by  a  transient  emotion  ;  by  a  tempo- 
rary disgust  at  a  sin  with  which  they  are  surfeited,  or 
by  a  few  sentimental  tears  over  an  inane  life  of  which 
they  are  tired  for  the  time.  If  they  did  but  know 
repentance  as  it  is,  as  the  cleaving  the  life  down  to  its 
very  base,  breaking  it  up,  nmning  it  into  a  new  moidd, 
they  would  understand  why  God  Himself  imdertakes 
to  superintend  that  work,  and  says,  ''/will  take  away 
the  heart  of  stone  out  of  your  flesh." 

Or,  go  on  still  farther  to  faith.  Can  men  believe 
what  they  will,  and  when  they  will  ?  If  you  have  ever 
dealt  much  with  them  in  their  moral  and  religious 
struggles,  you  w411  have  no  difficulty  in  answering  that 
question.  You  will  recall  instances  where  men  have 
been  solemnly,  painfully  in  earnest  to  arrive  at  intel- 
lectual conviction  of  the  truth,  and  yet  could  not  be- 
lieve ;  when  they  have  shown  that  it  was  possible  for 
the  mind,  otherwise  clear  and  well  balanced,  to  be- 
come absolutely  incapable  of  justly  weighing  religi- 
ous truth.  All  the  reasoning  in  the  world,  desire  to 
believe,  determination  to  believe,  will  not  do  away 


Sonship  by  Receiving  Christ,  89 

with  this  impotence  of  the  believing  faculty.  And 
when  it  comes  to  the  deeper  work  of  faith,  the  be- 
lieving w^ith  the  heart,  the  resting  of  the  whole  self 
upon  Christ  crucified,  the  work  exceeds  all  nature's 
power.  The  very  ability  thus  to  believe  must  be  re- 
ceived in  answer  to  the  prayer:  ''Lord,  help  thou 
mine  unbelief." 

Just  as  in  the  case  of  repentance,  men  are  misled  by 
underestimating  the  difficulties  of  faith.  Possibly  it 
is  an  easy  thing  to  believe,  as  too  many  do,  with  the 
top  of  the  mind,  if  I  may  so  speak,  with  a  faith  which 
grasps  at  straws,  and  cleaves  chiefly  to  what  it  desires 
to  believe,  and  is  easily  shifted  by  a  new  hearsay  or  a 
new  fascination.  But  faith,  on  which  a  man  stakes 
his  soul,  his  life,  his  immortality,  is  not  something 
which  the  mere  beck  of  his  will  can  command  at  any 
time,  or  which  merely  plays  upon  the  surface  of  his 
moral  nature.  "  With  the  heart  man  believeth  unto 
righteousness."  The  faith  by  which  he  lays  fame, 
fortune,  ambition,  will,  at  Christ's  feet,  and  accepts 
him  as  master,  saviour,  teacher,  comforter,  surety  for 
time  and  for  eternity,  is  the  gift  of  God.  Receiving 
God  he  then  first  receives  power  to  believe. 

And  this  idea  of  receiving  enters  far  more  than  we 
commonly  think  into  what  we  conceive  as  the  active 
side  of  Christian  life.  For  instance,  this  matter  of 
sacrifice,  devotion,  self-consecration.  Somehow,  too 
much  of  our  own  effort  gets  into  it,  so  that  it  becomes 
pen^aded  with  a  busy  self-consciousness.  We  mean 
it  for  self-consecration,  but  sometimes  there  is  more 
self  than  consecration.     We  bring  the  sacrifice  and 


90  Faith  and  Character, 

lay  it  upon  the  altar,  but  the  bringing  assumes  too 
much  importance.  A  man  is  very  apt  to  begin  a 
Christian  life  with  the  question,  *'  Now,  what  must  I 
give  up  ?  My  becoming  a  son  of  God  must  begin  in 
an  act  of  sacrifice.  So  here  I  put  into  a  heap  rny  pleas- 
ures, my  ambitions,  my  indulgences,  and,  with  much 
tugging  and  straining,  with  many  qualms  of  the  re- 
bellious flesh,  I  drag  them  to  the  altar.  This  pile 
once  consumed,  I  may  expect  God  to  come  and  own 
me  as  His  child."  Ah,  my  friend,  you  have  gotten 
hold  of  this  matter  on  the  w^rong  side.  There  is,  in- 
deed, no  question  that  your  sinful  indulgences  must 
be  surrendered,  your  whole  self  presented  a  living 
sacrifice  ;  but  think  you  this  is  accomplished  in  say- 
ing, "Here,  Lord,  I  give  myself  away?"  Nay;  self- 
consecration  is  the  craivning  act  of  Christian  life, 
not  the  introductory  act.  It  is  the  grand,  final  result 
of  years  of  Christian  experience.  Do  not  misunder- 
stand me.  I  recognize  what  is  called  consecration  at 
the  beginning  of  Christian  life,  the  forsaking  all,  and 
going  after  Christ.  But  forsaking  the  world  is  only 
the  beginning  of  consecration.  Leaving  all  for  Christ 
is  one  thing ;  becoming  like  Christ  is  another  thing. 
Consecration  is  more  than  renunciation.  Consecra- 
tion is  being  all  God's  :  having  the  life  so  merged  in 
Christ,  that  the  man  can  say,  '*  Not  I  live,  but  Christ 
liveth  in  me  : "  when  the  life  is  not  merely  given  to 
God,  but  per\\aded  with  God.  This  is  not  at  the  be- 
ginning, but  far  on  toward  the  end  of  the  course. 
Paul  gives  us  the  truth  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Philip- 
pians.     He  had  suffered  the  loss  of  all  things.     That 


Sonship  by  Receiviftg  Christ.  91 

was  behind  him.  Before  him  lay  this  :  "That  I  may- 
win  Christ,  be  found  in  Him,  having  His  righteous- 
ness, and  know  Him  and  the  power  of  His  resurrec- 
tion, and  the  fellowship  of  His  sufferings."  And  then 
he  says,  ''  Not  as  if  I  had  already  attained,  but  I  follow 
after."  Thus,  I  say,  we  are  to  recognize  a  distinction 
between  consecration  as  an  act  of  the  will,  and  conse- 
cration as  a  consummated  fact.  The  former  marks 
the  entrance  on  Christian  life,  the  latter  is  its  ripe  re- 
sult. Between  the  two  is  the  long,  hard  struggle  to 
make  the  act  of  the  will  a  fact  of  experience  :  the 
''following  after"  of  which  Paul  speaks.  Now,  I 
have  said  that  our  self-consecration  often  has  too 
much  self  in  it ;  carries  with  it  too  much  the  sense  of 
our  doing ;  whereas  consecration,  from  its  beginning 
in  the  act  of  the  renewed  will  to  its  consummation  in 
the  merging  of  the  life  in  Christ,  comes  through  our 
receiving  God  in  Christ.  That  is  the  side  of  it  which 
we  ought  to  push  forward.  We  say,  "■  we  will  conse- 
crate self,  and  then  and  therefore  receive  God."  God 
says  you  cannot  consecrate  self  without  first  receiving 
Him.  You  say,  ''  I  will  sweep  and  garnish  the  house, 
and  God  shall  come  into  the  place  which  I  have 
cleared  for  Him."  God  says  you  cannot  clear  the 
place  without  Him.  The  amount  of  it  is,  all  God 
asks  of  you  is  to  receive  Him.  He  will  make  His 
o^vn  place.  You  want  to  be  a  consecrated  man  or 
woman ;  receive  Christ  and  He  will  teach  you  how. 
You  want  strength  to  make  the  first  great  resolution — 
"  I  will  be  the  Lord's."  You  think  you  cannot  have 
Christ  until  you  have  made  it.     You  had  better  let 


92  Faith  a7id  Character, 

Christ  come  in  and  help  you  make  it.  You  never 
will  make  it  else.  You  want  power  to  keep  your  will 
toned,  and  to  carry  your  purpose  of  consecration  into 
your  life.  You  will  need  a  great  deal  of  instruction, 
correction,  encouragement  to  do  this  ;  a  mighty  love 
and  enthusiasm  drawing  you  on  to  self-forgetfulness. 
You  cannot  have  these  unless  Christ  first  come  in. 
''  To  as  many  as  received  Him,  to  them  gave  He  power 
to  become  sons  of  God  ; "  *'  a  power,"  as  one  says,  "  in- 
volving all  the  actions  and  states  needful  to  their  so 
becoming,  and  removing  all  the  obstacles  in  their 
way."  And  so  we  reach  that  truth  which  Norman 
McLeod  puts  so  pithily  in  one  of  his  letters  :  ''What 
is  devotedness  ?  It  is  not  a  giving  up,  but  a  full  and 
complete  receiving,  in  the  best  possible  way  (that  is, 
in  God's  way),  of  the  riches  of  His  bounty.  It  is  being 
first  in  sympathy  with  God,  judging  and  choosing, 
rejoicing  with  Him,  and  then,  consequently,  resting 
satisfied  with  all  that  He  wills  us  to  be,  to  do,  to  re- 
ceive, give  up,  to  suffer  or  enjoy." 

Our  failure  to  realize  this  exposes  us  to  much  un- 
necessary trouble  through  our  anxious  self-scrutiny 
as  to  the  extent  of  our  consecration.  In  other  words, 
we  make  our  Christian  confidence  and  peace  depend 
very  much  upon  our  feeling  satisfied  how  far  we  have 
yielded  ourselves  to  God  ;  upon  our  assurance  that 
we  have  given  up  everything  to  Him.  And  thus  we 
establish  a  false  centre  of  assurance.  How  often 
must  we  be  reminded  that  what  we  need  to  be  as- 
sured of  is  not  anything  concerning  ourselves — what 
we  are,  what  we  have  done — but  simply  that  Christ  is 


Sonship  by  Receiving  Christ.  93 

ours,  and  is  available  to  us  for  everything.  If  we 
can  say  "  Christ  is  ours,"  assurance  of  everything 
needful  follows.  We  have  the  best  authority  for  say- 
ing that  we  have  all  things  with  Him. 

So  our  life  is  too  much  a  series  of  resolutions,  of 
gathering  up  our  energies  for  successive  self-crucifix- 
ions, and  self-surrenders.  When  shall  we  learn  that 
when  Christ  gets  into  the  life,  self  strikes  at  once 
into  the  road  to  the  cross  ?  Christ  will  crucify  self 
better  than  we  can,  if  we  will  only  receive  Him. 

And  the  same  truth  reaches  into  our  work.  Oh 
how  much  we  need  this  lesson  of  receiving  Him 
there.  We  have  so  many  plans.  We  begin  with 
such  great  ideas  of  sendng  God.  We  mark  out  such 
grand  schemes  of  usefulness,  and  we  grow  impatient 
and  fearful  if  these  plans  are  interfered  with.  We 
set  about  the  thing  which  God  gives  us  to  do,  but  we 
see  so  much  else  that  needs  doing,  that  we  grow  ner- 
vous and  afraid  that  we  are  not  doing  the  right  work 
or  covering  enough  ground.  Let  us  be  at  peace. 
Let  us  do  the  work  God  gives  us,  and  let  Christ  take 
care  of  the  rest.  Pardon  me  if  I  quote  again  the 
w^ords  of  that  noble  servant  of  God,  McLeod :  ''I 
have  been,"  he  says,  ''for  years,  a  very  busy  man; 
but  I  never  for  an  hour  sought  for  work,  it  was  al- 
ways given  to  me."  Be  patient,  and  only  by  God's 
grace  keep  your  mind  in  that  most  necessary  state, 
which  will  discern  the  Lord's  voice  when  He  calls. 
I  have  great  faith  in  what  I  call  signs,  indescribable 
hints,  palpable  hints  that,  "  this  is  the  way,  walk  ye 
in  it."     One  cannot,  before  they  come,  tell  what  they 


94  Faith  and  Character, 

shall  be  ;  but  when  the  fulness  of  the  time  comes, 
when  the  Lord  has  appointed  us  to  do  anything, 
something  or  other  occurs  that  comes  home  instanta- 
neously to  us  with  the  conviction,  *'  The  Lord's  time 
has  come,  I  have  to  do  this." 

In  short,  the  key  to  the  highest  Christian  experi- 
ence is  in  these  two  words  :  Receive  Him.  Then  the 
strain  passes  over  from  our  life  to  Christ's  ;  then  all 
our  care  is  cast  on  him.  Then  Christ  takes  on  him- 
self the  task  of  fitting  us  for  Heaven.  He  tells  us  all 
we  need  to  know,  to  do,  to  surrender,  to  suffer.  That 
is  self-consecration,  a  far  deeper,  larger  thing  than 
merely  forsaking  this  or  that.  That  is  something 
which  includes  both  renunciation  and  devotion.  Oh, 
the  peace  of  such  a  life  !  What  deep-rooting !  What 
steady  growth !  What  rich  and  rare  fruitful ness ! 
What  fragrance  of  holy  character  and  example,  what 
heavenly  attraction,  mark  the  life  which  receives  God 
in  Christ,  the  life  with  all  its  celestial  energy  and 
beauty. 

"To  as  many  as  received  him,  to  them  gave  he 
power  to  become  the  sons  of  God."  Do  you  ask  this 
morning  how  you  may  receive  him  ?  The  answer  is 
simple  ;  it  is  Christ's  own  :  *'  Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given 
you  ;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find  ;  knock,  and  it  shall  be 
opened  unto  you." 


REST   GIVEN  AND  REST 
FOUND. 


MATTHEW    XI. 

(28)  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden, 

and  I  will  give  you  rest. 

(29)  Take  my  yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of  me  ;  for  I  am 

meek  and  lowly  in  heart :  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto 
your  souls. 

(30)  For  my  yoke  is  easy,  and  my  burden  is  light. 


VI. 
REST   GIVEN   AND   REST   FOUND. 

When  Christ  was  upon  earth,  each  one  who  came 
to  him  approached  him,  naturally  enough,  from  the 
standpoint  of  his  own  peculiar  w^ants.  Some,  as  he 
plainly  told  them,  sought  him  merely  to  have  their 
hunger  satisfied  without  labor  or  cost ;  because  they 
did  eat  of  the  loaves  and  were  filled.  Others  came  to 
be  healed  of  their  diseases.  Others,  like  Nicodemus, 
to  have  their  own  views  of  truth  confirmed. 

Our  Lord  did  meet  these  various  desires,  but  he 
met  them  in  his  own  way.  He  had  come  to  instruct 
men,  not  to  confirm  them  in  their  own  fancies  ;  to 
give  them  what  they  needed,  and  not  always  what 
they  wanted.  He  saw,  too,  what  they  did  not  see, 
that  all  human  needs  sprang  from  a  common  source, 
and  could  be  reached  by  a  common  remedy  ;  and, 
therefore,  he  was  chiefly  concerned  to  show  them  the 
universal  need  and  the  universal  remedy. 

And  how  wonderfully  his  wisdom  appears  in  the 
exhibition  of  this  fact  in  the  text.  Suppose  Christ 
in  person  addressing  the  whole  world,  as  he  is  doing 
to-day  through  the  gospel.  Suppose  he  should  say, 
"  Come  to  me,  philosopher,  and  I  will  show  you 
where  your  system  is  wrong."  At  once  the  wa3'far- 
5 


98  Faith  and  Character. 

ing  man  turns  away  saying,  *'  He  has  nothing  for 
me.  I  know  nothing  and  care  nothing  about  sys- 
tems of  philosophy."  Or,  let  him  say  to  the  legalist, 
"Come  unto  me.  I  will  adjust  all  these  intricate 
cases  of  conscience,  all  these  subtle  casuistries,  all 
these  nice  points  of  legal  obligation."  Away  goes 
the  philosopher  in  his  turn,  saying,  ''  I  have  heard 
enough  and  too  much  of  these  precepts  and  ordinan- 
ces. They  cramp  and  belittle  my  life."  And  the 
wayfaring  man,  though  he  stops  to  listen  for  awhile, 
says  at  last,  ''It  is  too  deep  for  me.  These  are  heaAT* 
and  grievous  burdens."  Or  he  says,  "Come  unto  me 
and  learn."  The  sinner  says,  "Nothing  for  me  here. 
I  want  forgiveness  and  peace  of  conscience,  not  learn- 
ing." Or,  "Come  unto  me  and  get  the  loaves  and 
fishes."  An  anxious  multitude  turn  their  backs  upon 
him,  saying,  "  Our  souls  are  hungry.  Our  immortal 
life  cries  out  for  nourishment.  Our  hands  are  feeling 
about  for  God." 

But  see  how  Christ,  waiving  all  these  for  the  time, 
strikes  down  to  something  which  is  common  to  every 
human  heart :  "Come  to  me  and  get  rest."  Here  he 
reaches  philosopher,  wayfaring  man,  sinner,  beggar, 
all  alike ;  for  every  man  has  his  burden  which  wea- 
ries him ;  his  sorrow  which  saddens  him ;  his  toil 
which  frets  him.  Not  one  who  does  not  respond  to 
the  appeal  to  the  weary  and  heavy  laden.  The  phi- 
losopher :  "Yes,  I  am  weary.  Shall  I  never  find  the 
truth  ?  Am  I  not  tired  in  heart  and  brain  with  the 
long,  studious  search?"  The  ascetic:  "Yes.  I  am 
so  weary  of  fasts  and  vigils,  and  yet  this  rebellious 


Rest  Given  aitd  Rest  Found.  99 

flesh  is  not  subdued,  and  this  uneasy  conscience  is 
not  at  peace."  And  at  this  invitation  they  come,  and 
keep  coming — men,  and  women,  and  little  children — 
and  tell  of  poverty,  and  hunger,  and  care,  and  sin, 
each  and  all  weary  and  heavy  laden. 

Here,  therefore,  Christ  establishes  his  point  of  con- 
tact with  mankind.  He  leaves  the  region  of  their 
moral  and  mental  combats  and  speculations,  and 
comes  down  to  that  of  their  great  practical  need. 
From  wiiatever  cause,  they  are  not  at  rest. 

Our  question  to-day  is,  how  Christ  meets  the  need 
which  his  wisdom  thus  discerns  in  man.  And  a  care- 
ful study  of  this  very  familiar  and  comforting  text 
will,  I  think,  show  us  two  phases  of  his  mode  of  sup- 
plying it.  Rest  is  Christ's  gift.  First,  directly,  and 
second,  as  a  result  of  experience.  ''  I  will  give  you 
rest  when  you  come  to  me.  Ye  shall  find  rest,  in 
taking  my  yoke  and  in  bearing  my  burden." 

Let  us  look,  then,  first  at  Christ's  rest  as  a  direct 
gift. 

And  you  obsen-e  that  our  Lord  says  nothing  at  all 
about  taking  away  burdens  or  labors.  He  merely 
says,  "  I  will  give  you  rest."  Indeed,  there  is  a  yoke 
and  a  burden  of  his  own  to  be  borne. 

But  this  does  not  meet  the  ordinary  views  of  men 
at  large  ;  for  their  idea  of  rest  is  summed  up  in  the 
removal  of  their  burdens  and  toils.  **  Only  take  away 
my  poverty,"  says  the  poor  man,  ''and  I  shall  be  rest- 
ful." "Only  relieve  me  of  these  business  claims 
which  hurr}'  and  drive  me  through  life,  as  with  whip 
and  spur,"  says  the  careworn  merchant,  "and  I  shall 


100  Faith  and  Character. 

be  at  rest."  ''Only  reveal  a  few  things  more  clearly. 
Shed  a  little  more  light  on  this  or  that  point,  restore 
one  or  two  missing  links  of  history,  and,"  says  the 
student,  ''  I  shall  be  at  rest."  This  conception  of  the 
cause  of  restlessness  Christ  emphatically  and  radi- 
cally contradicts.  He  tells  men  that  their  restless- 
ness and  weariness  come  from  themselves  and  not  from 
their  circumstances;  that  they  spring  from  their  very 
inmost  life,  their  souls,  and  not  from  their  bodily  in- 
firmities. Hence  it  is  to  the  soul  that  he  offers  rest. 
*'  Ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls."  In  other  words, 
if  the  man's  spiritual  being  shall  find  its  true  point  and 
centre  of  rest,  circumstances  may  remain  as  they  will. 
Let  the  man  himself  once  be  at  rest,  and  circumstan- 
ces cannot  make  him  restless.  The  engineer  who 
looks  out  upon  that  reef  over  which  the  breakers  are 
foaming  and  thundering,  is  not  thinking  of  the  means 
of  making  the  sea  quiet,  or  of  restraining  the  Avind. 
He  knows  that  the  winds  will  continue  to  rage  and 
the  sea  to  be  troubled.  But  he  is  thinking  how  he 
can  put  a  structure  upon  that  very  reef,  founded  on 
the  very  spot  where  the  sea  pours  in  most  mightily, 
against  which  the  waves  shall  beat  in  vain,  and  wiiich 
shall  rise  up  out  of  the  foam  and  spray,  carrying  aloft 
a  beacon,  in  the  darkest  night  of  tempest. 

Man  is  restless,  therefore,  because  he  himself  is 
not  at  rest.  Circumstances  burden  him  and  drive 
him  to  and  fro,  because  he  is  floating  about  in  the 
track  of  circumstances. 

As  to  what  man's  true  point  of  rest  is,  the  Bible 
leaves  us  in  no  doubt.     From   beginning  to  end  it 


Rest  Given  and  Rest  Found,  loi 

teems  with  the  stories  of  his  misfortunes  and  sorrows 
through  absence  from  God.  One  great  purpose  runs 
through  it,  to  bring  him  back  to  his  point  of  rest  in 
God.  And  Christ  is  only  repeating  the  old  lesson 
when  He  says,  ''Come  unto  me  and  fmd  rest."  It  is 
God  who  speaks  in  Him.  In  those  words  He  says, 
**Ye  are  restless  and  burdened  because  ye  are  away 
from  me  ;  and  ye  are  away  from  me  because  of  sin. 
It  is  not  that  your  bodies  are  enfeebled  or  your  intel- 
lects clouded,  but  that  your  hearts  are  estranged  from 
God." 

Is  there  anything  strange  or  unnatural  in  this  an- 
nouncement ?  Is  it,  for  instance,  a  fact  strange  to 
science,  that  when  a  revolving  body  gets  away  from 
its  proper  centre,  that  very  fact  entails  disaster  ?  If 
yonder  planet  were  by  any  means  to  fall  out  of  its 
orbit,  would  anything  else  be  required  to  account  for 
the  collision  and  confusion  which  would  follow  in  the 
realms  of  space  ?  Let  that  child  go  away  from  home, 
violating  the  moral  obligations,  and  trampling  upon 
the  filial  affections  which  bind  him  to  his  father,  and 
is  not  all  his  subsequent  disaster  summed  up  in  the 
fact  that  he  has  ceased  to  be  an  obedient  son  ?  Can 
a  son  of  God  go  away  from  his  Father  and  not  be 
restless  and  burdened  ?  By  that  very  act  he  makes 
himself  the  sport  of  circumstances.  By  that  very  act 
of  separation  he  removes  that  which  God  interposes 
between  his  obedient  child  and  the  shock  of  circum- 
stances. By  that  very  act  he  cuts  the  lines  by  which 
God  was  wont  to  adjust  his  life  to  circumstances. 
By  that  very  act  he  forfeits  the  power  which  was  his 


102  Faith  and  Character, 

birthright  gift  as  a  son  of  God,  to  master  circumstan- 
ces. Is  it  strange  that  sin,  which  separates  men  from 
God,  should  be  treated  by  Christ  as  the  root  of  all 
weariness  and  restlessness  ? 

And  here,  therefore,  is  where  Christ  meets  the  hun- 
ger for  rest.  Though  men  know  it  not,  it  is  the  hun- 
ger of  an  unforgiven  soul.  He  satisfies  it  with  the 
gift  of  pardon  and  restoration  to  himself.  Let  us 
not  mistake  Christ  here,  as  we  cannot  mistake  him  if 
we  read  these  words  in  the  light  of  the  whole  gospel. 
Let  us  not  be  betrayed  into  any  vapid  sentimentalism 
by  the  beautiful  and  comforting  word,  *'rest."  It  is 
moi'al  rest,  rest  of  the  soul  in  God  ;  rest  grounded  in 
sin  forgiven,  and  in  lost  sonship  restored,  that  Christ 
means  when  He  says  :  '*  I  will  give  you  rest."  It  is 
for  this  reason  that  to  His  w^ord  of  comfort  to  the  for- 
given, *'Go  in  peace,"  He  is  wont  to  add:  *^Sin  no 
more." 

Rest !  Is  it  not  indeed  something  more  than  mere 
quietude  when  a  straying,  tempest-tossed  soul  finds 
its  way  back  to  God  ?  Is  it  not  as  well  the  sense  of 
something  abiding  that  has  come  into  the  life  ;  of  a 
solid  foundation  under  one's  feet ;  of  moral  order  re- 
stored ;  of  security  in  the  hand  of  Him  who  makes 
all  things  work  together  for  good  ?  That  poor  out- 
cast in  Simon's  banqueting  hall— think  you  the  relief 
and  soothing  of  Jesus'  words  was  all  of  the  rest  that 
came  to  her  as  she  knelt  in  tears  at  his  feet  ?  If  in- 
deed that  were  all,  it  was  not  likely  to  stay  long  with 
her.  Whatever  Jesus  might  say,  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world  she  was  still  an  outcast,  and  she  would  go  out 


Rest  Given  and  Rest  Found.  103 

from  that  chamber  to  be  sneered  at  and  abused  and 
disgraced  as  before.  But  her  calm  of  heart  had  a 
foundation  in  a  precious  fact.  Jesus  understood  her. 
Jesus  had  received  her.  Jesus  had  forgiven  her. 
Whatever  the  world  might  say  or  do  hereafter,  he 
was  her  friend.  She  had  staked  her  all  on  that  ap- 
proach to  him,  and  henceforth  the  mob  might  howl, 
and  the  Pharisee  gather  up  his  robes  to  escape  her 
touch  ;  she  was  at  rest,  because  at  one  with  him  whom 
she  loved  much. 

This  is  Christ's  gift  to  all  who  come  to  him.  Par- 
don is  rest,  not  only  because  the  man  is  relieved  of  a 
sense  of  danger,  but  because  his  life  has  found  its 
centre.  This  is  a  most  precious  consciousness  which 
leads  him  to  sing  : 

**  Now  rest  my  long  divided  heart, 
Fixed  on  this  blissful  centre  rest ; 
Nor  ever  from  thy  Lord  depart, 

With  him  of  every  good  possessed." 

And  a  man  in  this  condition  is  not  unlike  that  one 
out  of  whom  Christ  cast  the  devil.  He  sits  at  Jesus' 
feet  clothed,  and  in  his  right  mind  ;  and  so  sweet  is 
the  companionship  of  his  new-found  friend  that  he 
would  fain  sit  there  forever,  and  enjoy  his  rest  of 
heart,  and  pass  his  life  away  in  peaceful  gazing  on 
his  Lord. 

But  he  has  only  begun.  He  knows  rest  only  in  its 
first  stage  and  in  its  simplest  form.  There  is  a  de- 
velopment of  the  gift  which  he  is  to  reach  by  a  longer 
road.     Rest  has  been  ^iven^  but  given  only  to  point 


104  Faith  and  Character. 

him  to  a  rest  to  be  found.  He  knows  the  rest  of  par- 
don, the  rest  of  reconciliation,  he  is  to  find  the  rest 
of  developed  character,  the  rest  which  is  to  come  in 
the  balance  of  his  disciplined,  matured  moral  nature 
on  this  divine  centre.  He  is  to  learn  the  rest  of 
Christian  manhood  worked  out  through  burden-bear- 
ing and  conflict,  and  poised  on  Christ.  For  this  he 
is  put  forthwith  under  Christ's  yoke  and  Christ's  bur- 
den. 

Here,  doubtless,  is  a  source  of  practical  embarrass- 
ment to  many  young  Christians,  in  the  failure  to 
perceive  that  God's  first  gift  of  rest  in  pardoning 
their  sins,  points  beyond  itself  to  a  fuller,  sweeter 
rest  in  Christian  experience.  They  make  too  much 
of  this  first  rest,  in  that  they  linger  in  it,  and  depend 
upon  it  to  supply  what  can  only  come  through  the 
manful  facing  and  undertaking  of  Christian  duty  and 
conflict.  Their  first  experience  of  the  love  of  Christ 
and  of  peace  with  God  is  so  sweet  that  they  think,  in 
proportion  as  they  recede  from  that  experience,  they 
lose  ground  and  endanger  their  peace,  not  suspecting 
that  the  larger,  more  substantial  peace,  which  is  their 
birthright  as  sons  of  God,  lies  far  on  beyond  that  ex- 
perience. Doubtless  the  recovered  lunatic,  of  whom 
I  have  spoken,  thought  he  was  running  a  risk  in  leav- 
ing his  post  at  Jesus'  feet.  Doubtless  he  shrank  from 
going  out  from  the  sight  of  that  beloved  face  into  the 
brawling  world  which  had  knowm  him  as  a  madman. 
Yet  Christ  knew  when  he  bade  him  go  home  to  his 
friends  and  exercise  his  recovered  powers  in  pro- 
claiming his  Redeemer,  that  he  would  find  in    this 


Rest  Given  and  Rest  Fonnd.  105 

very  work  a  deeper  sense  of  rest,  a  more  vivid  con- 
sciousness of  his  presence,  tlian  in  the  mere  passive 
enjoyment  of  the  sense  of  healing. 

So  a  young  Christian  lingers  in  the  still  daybreak 
of  his  first  peace  with  God.  He  almost  dreads  the 
coming  of  the  bright,  hot  day,  with  its  glare  and 
noise  ;  and  probably  fails  to  suspect  that  there  may 
be  a  deeper  peace  for  him  amid  all  the  glare  and 
noise  than  even  in  his  quiet  musing  over  his  first  ex- 
perience of  forgiveness.  Robertson  has  truthfully 
said,  that  "a  man  whose  religion  is  chiefly  the  sense 
of  forgiveness,  does  not  thereby  rise  into  integrity  or 
firmness  of  character."  Jacob  rose  up  from  the  stone 
at  Bethel  in  great  peace  ;  with  an  overpowering,  rap- 
turous sense  of  God's  presence.  **  Truly  God  was  in 
this  place.  This  is  none  other  than  the  house  of 
God.  This  is  the  gate  of  heaven."  And  yet,  for  years 
Jacob  lived  in  the  mefno?y  of  that  restful  vision,  in- 
stead of  moving  out  under  its  impulse  to  a  deeper  rest 
in  God.  That  life  at  Padan-aram,  with  all  its  uneasy 
plotting  and  scheming  and  wrangling,  was  anything 
but  a  restful  life.  He  had  to  have  another  vision  of 
God  and  a  grapple  that  lamed  him  before  he  reached 
that  higher  plane  of  character  where, the  supplanter 
gave  place  to  the  prince  of  God. 

Now,  if  a  Christian  depends  upon  his  first  experi- 
ence at  conversion  to  keep  him  happy  and  restful  all 
his  life,  he  will  find  himself  growing  very  unhappy 
and  very  restless.  If  he  makes  his  rest  to-day  depend 
upon  the  memory  of  his  rest  a  year  or  a  month  ago, 
his  character  w411  not  grow  strong.     He  has  a  rest  to 


io6  Faith  and  Character. 

find  ;  and  to  find  it  daily,  as  the  Israelites  found  the 
manna  daily  at  their  tent  doors.  The  sense  of  for- 
giveness is  something,  nay,  is  very  much  ;  but  God 
has  a  great  deal  to  do  for  a  man  in  the  course  of  his 
Christian  life,  besides  forgiving  him.  Forgiveness  is 
only  that  which  brings  him  to  his  true  standpoint  of 
life.  Forgiveness  makes  him  right  with  God.  From 
this  point  an  immense  and  infinitely  varied  range  of 
experience  opens  before  him.  He  must  strike  out 
into  it  without  delay.  Suppose  your  son  of  fifteen  or 
sixteen  years  had  offended  you  in  some  serious  way, 
and  after  some  time  should  come  back,  confess  his 
fault,  and  be  freely  forgiven.  That  first  day  of  recon- 
ciliation would  be  a  most  precious  day  to  you  both. 
Your  sorrow  over  his  disobedience  would  be  gone,  his 
clouded  looks  and  heavy  heart  would  be  gone,  and 
he  would  move  with  elastic  step  and  smiling  face 
about  his  accustomed  haunts,  only  too  happy  to  find 
himself  again  at  home  in  his  father's  house.  How 
much  you  have  to  teach  him.  Into  what  large  re- 
sponsibilities you  have  yet  to  introduce  him.  What 
large  plans  your  love  has  framed  for  him,  all  which 
things  are  now  become  possible  through  his  repen- 
tance and  forgiveness.  But  suppose  the  boy  should 
be  simply  anxious  to  prolong  the  pleasure  of  that  first 
day  of  reconciliation.  Suppose  he  should  talk  of 
nothing  else  but  his  father's  goodness  in  forgiving 
him.  Instead  of  setting  himself  to  his  studies  or 
duties,  he  remains  in  his  chamber,  or  strolls  abstract- 
edly about  the  house  or  garden,  musing  on  his  fath- 
er's goodness.     Now   and   then  there   comes  a  day 


Rest  Given  and  Rest  Found.  107 

when  he  is  a  little    low-spirited.      You  yourself  are 
preoccupied  and  do  not  say  much  to  him.     He  be- 
gins  to    think    something   is  wrong,  and  takes  you 
aside   and   asks   you   if   he   may  be   sure   you   have 
forgiven  him.    Now  you  can  easily  see  that  that  will 
not  do.     The  boy's  whole  life  is  concentrating  itself 
morbidly  upon  that  one  point  in  the  past.      He  is 
neither  doing  the  duties  of  a  son,  nor  learning  the 
privileges  of  a  son.     He  is  not  finding  the  joy  of 
doing  his  father's  will  daily.     He  is  not  feeling  the 
sense  of  victor}^  in  the  manful  grapple  with  his  old 
faults,    and   in    his   growth  in   self-control  and  self- 
denial.     He  is  not  realizing,  through  experience,  that 
it  is  in  his  father's  power  to  do  more  than  to  forgive 
him.     And  yet,  absurd  as  this  may  seem,  is  it  not  a 
picture  of  many  a  Christian  experience  ?     Are  there 
not  scores  of  Christians  whose  happiness  and  restful- 
ness  are  made  by  themselves  to  depend  upon  keeping 
the  memory  of  forgiven  sin  at  its  first  vividness  ?     The 
result  is  the  unhealthiest,  weakest  religious  life  im- 
aginable.    Such  a  religious  experience  is  very  much 
as  if  a  bricklayer  should  try  to  build  a  wall  with 
only  one  point  in  contact  with  the  foundation.     The 
whole  thing  would  very  soon  be  a  heap  of  ruins. 
He  must  have  the  whole  line  of  his  wall  resting  on 
the  foundation.     Just  so  a  healthy  Christian  life  must 
rest  in  God  all  along  its  line.     The  single  experience 
of  forgiveness  is  a  great  and  precious  one,  but  it  is 
not  strong  enough  to  bear  the  weight  of  the  whole 
Christian  life.     That  must  touch  God  daily  and  every- 
where.    A  Christian  experience,  with  only  one  lumi- 


io8  Faith  and  CJiaracter. 

nous  point  in  it,  far  back  at  the  beginning,  is  like  a 
tunnel  lighted  only  at  the  entrance.  The  light  gets 
dimmer  and  dimmer  as  you  go  on.  And  that  is  not 
the  Scriptural  idea  of  a  life  in  God,  for  Scripture  tells 
us  that  "the  path  of  the  just  shineth  more  and  more 
even  unto  the  perfect  day. "  A  great  many  people  who 
have  gotten  hold  of  the  first  part  of  our  text,  coming  to 
Christ  and  recekmig  rest,  seem  to  have  failed  entirely 
to  grasp  the  second  ^2irt—Jindi?ig  rest  under  Christ's 
yoke  and  burden.  It  seems  as  if  they  had  come  to 
Christ  only  to  be  forgiven,  and  then  had  parted  com- 
pany with  him.  Such  do  not  know  what  they  lose. 
The  importance  of  forgiveness  and  reconciliation  we 
cannot  overestimate.  They  lie  at  the  foundation  of 
all.  But  as  to  their  forming  the  best  part,  the  most 
joyous  part  of  Christian  experience,  there  never  was 
a  greater  mistake.  One  might  as  well  compare  the 
joys  of  infancy  to  those  of  strong  and  cultured  man- 
hood. He  might,  with  as  good  reason,  linger  at  agate- 
way,  examining  its  carvings,  while  a  paradise  lay  on 
beyond.  And  therefore  it  is  that  the  apostle  puts  the 
case  so  strongly  :  "  Therefore,  leaving  the  principles 
of  the  doctrine  of  Christ,  let  us  go  on  unto  perfec- 
tion." The  alphabet  is  a  very  necessary  thing  ;  but 
only  an  idiot  would  linger  over  the  alphabet  when 
the  vast  fields  of  literature  were  before  him. 

It  is  a  good  thing  for  such  people,  a  good  thing  for 
us  all  that  the  world  has  to  be  faced  and  fought ;  a 
good  thing  that  Christ  puts  us  from  the  beginning 
under  a  yoke  and  a  burden.  I  think  so,  because  I  see 
that  the  greatest  restfulness  and  the  nicest  poise  of 


Rest  Given  and  Rest  Found.  1 09 

character  have  somehow  risen  up  out  of  the  midst  of 
these  very  disturbing  influences.  Just  as  the  little 
coral  workers,  beginning  far  down  on  the  ocean's  bot- 
tom, build  patiently  up  through  the  deep,  until  there 
emerges  from  the  spray  a  rock,  on  which  by  and  by 
trees  and  flowers  grow,  and  men  dwell,  and  in  whose 
shelter  storm-tossed  vessels  anchor,— so  through  all 
the  tempests  and  floods  of  sorrow  and  persecution  and 
pain,  I  see  these  characters  working  their  way  up  to 
fixedness  and  beauty  and  fruitfulness  ;  and  words 
which  strengthen  the  world's  heart,  and  stir  its  slug- 
gishness into  heroism  come  forth  from  them,  and 
storm-driven  souls  moor  themselves  to  them,  and  sor- 
row and  pain  creep  into  their  shadow,  and  draw  rest 
from  their  restfulness.  Jesus,  the  author  and  finisher 
of  our  faith:  nothing  in  his  character  is  more  impres- 
sive than  its  perfect  calm  ;  ''not  the  stillness  of  tor- 
pidity, or  the  silence  of  the  ice-bound  Arctic  Seas,  but 
a  repose  consistent  with  a  rich,  deep,  inexhaustible 
enthusiasm."'  He  was  the  Prince  of  peace.  When 
he  said  to  his  disciples,  "  Peace  I  leave  you,"  it  was 
with  a  deep  and  good  reason  that  he  added,  ''my 
peace  I  give  unto  you  ; "  for  the  peace  which  he 
gave  was  that  which  dwelt  in  his  own,  calm,  harmo- 
nious soul :  and  yet  in  him  we  are  bidden  to  consider 
''Him  who  endured  such  contradiction  of  sinners 
against  himself."  And  Paul,  who  lived  in  the  very 
spirit  and  temper  of  Christ :  looked  at  in  its  out- 
ward incidents,  there  never  was  a  more  restless  life — 


1  Ullmann. 


no  Faith  and  Character, 

travelling,  arguing,  preaching,  writing ;  in  prisons, 
before  mobs,  and  councils  and  kings,  a  life  of  endless 
variety,  a  life  to  which  the  sense  of  danger  must  have 
become  habitual ;  and  yet  we  see  none  of  this  in  the 
man.  The  unrest  is  round  him,  not  in  him  ;  and,  in 
the  midst  of  its  dizzying  whirl  his  own  manhood 
flows  out  in  all  its  richness,  and  silently  grows  in 
depth  and  power,  and  his  grand  work  keeps  on  its 
steady  course,  and  his  well-weighed  words,  so  full  of 
cheer  and  instruction,  come  out  of  a  heart  which  rests 
in  calm  conviction  and  in  undisturbed  trust.  De- 
pend upon  it,  there  is  a  point  of  rest  somewhere  in 
the  heart  of  the  storm.  It  must  be  that  this  very 
shifting  and  tumult  cover  some  blessed  secret  which 
those  only  discover  who  walk  through  the  midst  of 
flood  and  fire.  This  cold,  hard,  bustling  world ! 
When  a  man  comes  fresh  and  warm  from  his  first 
contact  with  Christ,  he  shrinks  from  it  as  from  a 
tumbling  and  freezing  sea.  Christ  points  him  to  his 
work  in  a  sphere  where  it  appears  to  him  as  if  all  his 
spirituality,  all  his  calm,  all  his  bright,  cheerful  hope 
must  be  swallowed  up  and  lost.  Perhaps  the  kind  of 
Christian  experience  which  he  has  in  mind  as  an 
ideal  will  be  swallowed  up.  If  his  ideal  is  exhausted 
in  the  first  raptures  of  forgiven  sin,  if  it  is  a  monastic 
ideal  of  secluded  musing  and  spiritual  ecstasy,  be 
sure  Christ  is  striking  directly  at  it.  He  has  some- 
thing better  for  him  than  that,  and  he  means  that  he 
shall  find  it.  And,  as  he  goes  down  with  fear  and 
trembling  into  that  uncongenial  sphere,  and  puts  his 
hand  to  that  unpromising  work,  the  first  thing  he  will 


Rest  Given  and  Rest  Found.  m 

learn  will  be  the  need  of  a  constant  contact  of  his  life 
with  Christ.  The  memory  of  the  first  contact  will 
not  answer.  He  must  have  Christ  with  him  alway  ; 
and  to  his  surprise  he  will  begin  to  find  that  this  sense 
of  personal,  hourly  contact  with  his  Lord  swallows 
up  in  itself  the  disturbance  and  annoyance  from  with- 
out. He  will  find  that  the  very  rage  and  cruelty  and 
opposition,  which  drive  him  closer  and  closer  to 
Christ,  only  open  to  him  new  secrets  of  loveliness, 
'and  new  resources  in  Christ's  character.  He  will 
find,  to  his  delight,  that  it  is  possible,  amid  the  world's 
sordidness  and  meanness,  which  call  out  his  disgust ; 
amid  its  upheavings  and  tumults,  which  appeal  to  his 
fears  ;  amid  the  bitter  sorrows  which  call  forth  his 
tears  ;  amid  the  drudgery  which  tires — he  will  find,  I 
say,  that  it  is  possible  for  a  man  to  carry  a  peaceful 
heart  in  his  bosom  ;  a  rest  which  these  things  cannot 
disturb ;  a  quiet  consciousness  of  the  pressure  of 
God's  everlasting  arms  underneath  him  w^hich  shall 
keep  him  in  perfect  peace.  This  is  the  rest  that  is 
found.  It  is  not,  it  cannot  be  the  rest  of  the  new- 
born soul.  It  comes  only  through  experience,  only 
through  the  pressure  of  Christ's  yoke.  Paul  said, 
"  I  am  persuaded ; "  as  if  life  and  death  and  things 
present  and  things  to  come  had  been  presenting  their 
arguments  and  their  menaces  to  shake  the  repose  of 
his  soul,  and  he  had  beaten  them  all  back.  **  I  am 
persuaded,  that  neither  death,  nor  life,  nor  angels, 
nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor  height,  nor  depth, 
nor  any  other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from 
the  love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord." 


112  Faith  and  Character, 

So  then,  ye  who  are  in  the  midst  of  life's  whirl  to- 
day, fighting  and  bearing,  striking  and  being  stricken, 
do  not  look  backward  to  an  earlier  experience  of  the 
love  and  rest  which  are  in  Christ,  as  to  some  brighter 
day  which  never  shall  kindle  again  until  Heaven's 
morning  break.  That  was  not  your  best  nor  your 
purest  rest.  Look  for  rest  in  your  conflict.  Expect 
to  find  it  to-day  and  to-morrow,  and  all  along  to  the 
end  ;  to  find  it  in  the  working  out  of  your  Christian 
manhood  ;  in  your  conquest  over  self,  in  the  disci- 
pline of  sorrow,  in  the  faithful  dealing  with  routine 
and  drudgery.  It  is  there  for  you.  Ye  shall  find  rest, 
as  the  world  slips  away  and  leaves  you  alone  with 
Christ,  the  rest  which  comes  through  the  deeper 
stamp  of  his  character  upon  yours.  The  reason  why 
many  of  your  lives  are  so  uneasy,  is  that  you  are  look- 
ing for  rest  in  the  removal  of  your  burden  instead  of 
in  the  bearing  of  it.  The  rest  lies  right  under  the  yoke , 
a?id  notuhere  else.     Learn  to  seek  it  there. 

*•  We  ask  for  peace,  O  Lord, 

Thy  children  ask  Thy  peace; 
Not  what  the  world  calls  rest, 

That  toil  and  care  should  cease, 
That  through  bright  sunny  hours 

Calm  life  should  fleet  away. 

And  tranquil  night  should  fade 

In  smiling  day — 

It  is  not  for  such  peace  that  we  would  pray, 

**  We  ask  Thy  peace,  O  Lord  ! 

Through  storm,  and  fear,  and  strife, 
To  light  and  guide  us  on, 

Through  a  long,  struggling  life : 


Rest  Given  and  Rest  Found,  1 1 3 

While  no  success  or  gain 

Shall  cheer  the  desperate  fight, 

Or  nerve,  what  the  world  calls 

Our  wasted  might  : 

Yet  pressing  through  the  darkness  to  the  light. 

"  It  is  thine  own,  O  Lord  ! 

Who  toil  while  others  sleep. 
Who  sow  with  loving  care 

What  other  hands  shall  reap  ; 
They  lean  on  Thee,  entranced 

In  calm  and  perfect  rest  : 

Give  us  that  peace,  O  Lord ! 

Divine  and  blest, 

Thou  keepest  for  those  hearts  who  love  Thee  best." 


THE  DIVINE  GIFT  OF  WISDOM. 


JAMES   I. 

(5)  If  any  of  you  lack  wisdom,  let  him  ask  of  God  that  giveth 

to  all  men  liberally  and  upbraideth  not,  and  it  shall  be 
given  him. 

(6)  But  let  him  ask  in  faith,  nothing  wavering  ;  for  he  that 
wavereth  is  like  a  wave  of  the  sea,  driven  with  the  wind 
and  tossed. 


VII. 
THE   DIVINE   GIFT   OF  WISDOM. 

Wisdom  is  the  central  thought  of  this  text.  What 
is  wisdom  ? 

It  cannot  be  defined  in  a  word.  In  the  first  place, 
it  is  not  knowledge.  You  remember  the  lines  in  which 
the  distinction  is  so  well  brought  out: 

**  Knowledge  and  wisdom,  far  from  being  one, 
Have  ofttimes  no  connection.     Knowledge  dwells 
In  heads  replete  with  thoughts  of  other  men  ; 
Wisdom,  in  minds  attentive  to  their  own. 
Knowledge,  a  rude,  unprofitable  mass, 
The  mere  material  with  which  wisdom  builds, 
Till  smoothed  and  squared  and  fitted  to  its  use, 
Doth  but  encumber  whom  it  seems  to  enrich. 
Knowledge  is  proud  that  he  has  learned  so  much, 
Wisdom  is  humble,  that  he  knows  no  more." 

Wisdom  represents,  not  so  much  what  a  man  knows, 
as  his  perception  of  the  right  bearing  of  knowledge 
upon  practice.  In  the  Scriptures,  wisdom  is  bound 
up  with  character.  It  has  been  defined  as  "an  in- 
sight, rooted  in  faith,  into  whatever  goes  to  the  per- 
fection and  practical  efficiency  of  Christian  charac- 
ter." If,  therefore,  knowledge  grasps  the  facts  and 
the  laws  of  morals  and  religion,  wisdom  discerns  the 


Ii8  Faith  a7id  Character. 

applications  of  these  facts  and  laws  to  right  conduct. 
Knowledge  represents  only  what  a  man  knows.  Wis- 
dom tells  us  besides,  something  of  what  he  is.  Solo- 
mon, viewed  as  one  who  knew  all  the  trees  and  shrubs 
from  the  cedar  to  the  hyssop,  all  beasts  and  fowl  and 
creeping  things  and  fishes,  was  merely  a  man  of 
knowledge.  His  asking  God  for  heavenly  under- 
standing instead  of  for  wealth  or  power,  his  decision 
w^hen  the  two  mothers  appeared  before  him  with  their 
claim  for  the  same  child,  proved  him  a  wise  man. 
Hence,  in  the  Bible,  you  constantly  find  wisdom  as- 
sociated with  moral  traits.  In  our  text,  it  is  con- 
nected with  trial  of  faith  and  with  patience.  We  are 
told  by  the  Psalmist  that  its  beginning  is  the  fear  of 
the  Lord  ;  and  James  describes  the  wisdom  which  is 
from  above  by  moral  characteristics  :  it  is  pure,  peace- 
able, gentle,  easy  to  be  entreated,  without  partiality 
and  without  hypocrisy. 

We  have  nothing  to  do,  therefore,  with  that  prac- 
tical shrewdness  which  goes  in  the  world  under  the 
name  of  wisdom.  We  are  concerned  with  that  di- 
vine gift  of  spiritual  insight  which  acquaints  a  man 
with  God's  truth  as  it  is  related  to  his  becoming  a 
good,  useful,  and  truly  happy  man.  The  object  of 
living  to  which  we  are  here  directed  by  the  apostle 
is,  that  we  may  be  perfect  and  entire,  wanting  noth- 
ing. And  we  can  easily  see  why  patience  comes  in  just 
here,  and  why  we  are  exhorted  to  let  it  have  its  per- 
fect work  ;  because  growing  perfect  and  entire  is  not 
easily  nor  quickly  done,  especially  when  the  standard 
of  perfection  is  God's. 


The  Divine  Gift  of  Wisdom.  119 

Here,  then,  is  where  the  need  of  wisdom  reveals 
itself.  If  living  were  merely  a  question  of  getting 
bread  and  clothes  and  shelter  and  amusement,  while 
it  would  still  be  a  very  hard  problem  to  many,  it 
would  be  greatly  simplified  to  many  more.  But  the 
moment  you  introduce  the  moral  element  into  life, 
the  moment  you  make  life  something  to  be  devel- 
oped with  primary  reference  to  God,  to  character, 
and  to  eternity — the  moment,  in  other  words,  you  add 
to  the  problem  of  getting  food  and  clothing  and 
home,  the  problem  of  being  pure  and  truthful  and 
generous  and  patient  and  brave  and  tender — of  being 
Christlike,  in  short — that  moment  you  greatly  enno- 
ble living,  but  you  make  it,  at  the  same  time,  a  much 
more  serious  and  difficult  thing.  That  is  true  both 
as  to  our  thinking  and  our  acting.  The  questions  of 
our  age  about  literature,  science,  or  politics,  we  can 
master  them,  or  if  not,  it  does  not  so  much  matter. 
The  next  generation  will  do  it,  or  the  next,  and  the 
solution  of  many  of  these  questions  affects  some  of 
us  very  remotely  indeed.  But  these  great  moral  and 
spiritual  questions  growing  out  of  God's  relation  to 
us,  and  out  of  our  relation  through  God  to  the  world 
— these  touch  us.  They  come  into  the  region  of  our 
joys,  our  successes,  our  friendships,  our  choices.  We 
want  to  answer  them  each  for  himself,  and  yet  how 
successive  generations  have  wrestled  with  these  same 
questions,  and  have  found  them  hard  questions  as  we 
do. 

And  on  the  active,  practical  side  of  life,  it  is  the 
same.     The  hardest  thing  that  you  and  I  confront  is, 


I20  Faith  and  Character. 

how  to  be  good,  how  to  keep  down  the  devils  in  us, 
and  to  keep  out  those  around  us  :  how  to  choke  sel- 
fishness, how  to  abate  pride,  how  to  rejoice  in  an- 
other's success  where  w^e  fail,  how  to  keep  conscience 
unsullied  on  its  Godward  side.  Do  you  find  these 
things  easy,  any  of  you — that  is,  any  of  you  who  have 
honestly  set  yourselves  to  work  out  this  problem,  and 
are  not  trying  to  get  round  it  ?  I  think  not ;  and  you 
are  not  alone  in  your  difficulty  either :  for  these  moral 
questions,  both  theoretical  an4  practical,  are  the  very 
questions  which  we  find  troubling  earnest  men  as  far 
back  as  we  can  read  history.  **  It  is  a  solemn  thing 
to  die,"  it  is  said.  Truly,  it  seems  to  me  that  living 
is  the  solemn  thing,  and  that  the  solemnity  which  at- 
taches to  death  grows  mostly  out  of  its  relation  to 
life  ;  to  the  life  which  it  closes,  and  to  the  larger  life 
which  it  introduces. 

I  repeat,  that  the  moment  you  introduce  the  moral 
element  into  living,  that  moment  you  make  living  a 
problem  of  thq  first  magnitude.  Look  at  our  text  and 
context.  Here  is  an  exhortation  which  strikes  seven 
men  out  of  ten  as  a  paradox  :  '*  Count  it  all  joy  when 
ye  fall  into  divers  trials."  '^  That  is  ridiculous,"  says 
the  average  man  of  the  world.  Trial  is  not  a  pleas- 
ant nor  a  joyful  thing.  Not  only  so,  he  says  it  is  all 
wrong  and  inconsistent  that  a  good,  true,  generous 
man  should  suffer.  If  he  does  right,  he  ought  to  be 
prosperous  and  happy.  If  he  does  wrong,  why  then 
it  is  his  own  fault  if  he  suffers.  That  was  the  way  in 
which  Eliphaz,  the  Temanite,  put  it  to  Job  ;  and  Job 
himself,  who  had  tacitly  accepted  the  same  popular 


TJie  Divhie  Gift  of  Wisdom.  121 

view  of  reward  and  punishment,  for  that  very  reason 
found  his  affliction  such  a  mystery.  Why  do  the 
good  suffer  ?  is  one  of  the  main  questions  underlying 
that  wonderful  poem.  So  Eliphaz  stands  by  the  ash 
heap,  and  begins  to  moralize.  He  has  a  very  easy 
explanation  of  that  pitiable  spectacle,  '^  Bethink  thee 
now :  whoever  perished,  being  innocent,  and  when 
have  the  upright  been  cut  off  ?  As  I  have  seen,  they 
who  plow  iniquity  and  sow  mischief,  reap  it.  At  the 
breath  of  God  they  perish."  The  logic  of  all  which 
is  :  "  You,  Job,  must  have  sinned,  else  you  would  not 
be  afflicted."  And  because  Job  persists  in  maintain- 
ing his  integrity,  and  refuses  to  renounce  his  con- 
scious innocence  until  he  has  been  proved  guilty,  he 
is  loaded  with  reproaches  by  his  friends.  And  that 
hard  problem  was  not  solved  until  there  came  a  man 
of  more  sorrows  and  of  higher  wisdom  than  Job,  who 
said  :  "  Every  branch  in  me  that  beareth  fruit,  he 
purgeth  it  that  it  may  bring  forth  more  fruit."     • 

So  as  to  the  matter  of  faith  which  James  here  tells 
us  is  to  be  developed  by  temptation.  A  large  part  of 
the  world  is  still  fighting  the  claim  of  faith  to  a  place 
in  character,  and  especially  to  the  first  place.  "  Why 
so  much  admonition  and  so  much  trial  to  develop 
faith  ?  Sight,  not  faith,  is  the  thing.  Walk  only 
where  you  can  see.  Believe  only  the  evidence  of  your 
senses."  And  we  who  recognize  the  claim  of  faith, 
and  admit  that  the  life  of  faith  is  the  higher,  rarer 
life,  do  we  find  it  easy  to  live  by  faith  ?  Are  we  al- 
w^ays  patient  under  the  trials  which  test  and  aim  to 

develop  faith  ?     Is  it  always  easy  to  be  cheerful  when 
6 


122  Faith  and  Character. 

we  go  after  God  into  rough  and  crooked  ways  ?  Does 
faith  always  make  our  dark  nights  full  of  songs  ?  Do 
we  find  it  easy  to  believe  in  God's  love  for  us  while 
the  strokes  of  His  rod  are  falling  ? 

All  these,  you  see,  are  questions  of  character. 
Faith,  patience,  temptation  resisted,  yielded  to,  or 
translated  into  power,  are  elements  in  character- 
building.  A  thousand  experiences  test  our  faith  :  a 
thousand  temptations  call  out  our  strength  and  cour- 
age and  caution  :  a  thousand  burdens  tax  our  patience. 
If  the  problem  were  only  to  get  round  the  burdens, 
or  to  shirk  the  trials,  or,  at  worst,  to  nerve  one's  self 
doggedly  to  bear  and  get  along  with  such  things 
somehow,  it  were  comparatively  simple  ;  but  to  walk 
by  an  intelligent  faith  in  God,  with  a  clear  conscious- 
ness of  the  power  and  preciousness  of  the  principle 
of  faith,  to  be  initiated  into  the  laws  of  that  life 
where  trial  and  suffering  are  God's  ministers  of  per- 
fection, nothing  will  serve  us  here  but  wisdom. 

If  that  will  solve  these  questions  for  us,  if  that  will 
unravel  the  great  Sphynx  riddle  of  life,  shall  we  call 
the  Bible's  estimate  of  wisdom  extravagant,  even 
when  expressed  in  Job's  words  :  '^  Man  knoweth  not 
the  price  thereof,  neither  is  it  found  in  the  land  of 
the  living.  The  depth  saith  :  It  is  not  in  me,  and  the 
sea  saith  :  It  is  not  with  me.  It  cannot  be  gotten  for 
gold,  neither  shall  silver  be  weighed  for  the  price 
thereof.  The  gold  and  the  crystal  cannot  equal  it ; 
and  the  exchange  of  it  shall  not  be  for  jewels  of  fine 
gold  ? " 

And  as  we  face,  sometimes  almost  in  desperation. 


The  Divine  Gift  of  Wisdom.  123 

these  great  questions  of  right,  godly  living,  this  fight 
and  climb  toward  goodness,  as  we  cry  with  Job, 
**  Where  shall  wisdom  be  found,  and  where  is  the 
place  of  understanding  ? "  we  are  met  with  the  sim- 
ple answer  of  the  text:  *'Ask  God  for  it,  and  you 
shall  have  it."  Is  it  not  beautiful,  godlike,  the  large, 
generous  way  in  which  the  Bible  offers  the  most  rare 
and  precious  gifts  to  men  ?  What  a  sense  of  omni- 
potence and  of  infinite  love  pervades  such  offers  as 
this.  The  thing  you  want  is  God's,  simply  ask  for  it 
and  you  shall  have  it. 

And  this  divine  generosity  is  thrown  into  high  re- 
lief by  the  very  wording  of  the  text :  ''  God,  who 
giveth  to  all  men  liberally."  But  our  translation, 
while  it  states  the  truth,  covers  up  a  part  of  it  which 
is  very  precious,  namely,  the  description  of  God  as,  in 
His  very  7iature,  a  giver.  Literally  it  is,  "  let  him  ask 
of  God  the  giver"  and  those  words,  ''  the  giver,"  are 
put  first  to  emphasize  them.  So  that  we  are  not 
only  told  w^here  to  ask,  but  are  encouraged  to  ask  by 
being  told  that  God  is,  in  His  very  nature,  a  giving 
God. 

More  than  this,  we  are  told  ho7v  God  gives  ;  which 
is  not  the  least  important  element  in  the  case.  For 
you  know  how,  in  giving  and  receiving  among  men, 
the  value  of  the  gift  itself  to  the  receiver  is  greatly 
affected  by  the  mode  of  bestowal.  If  I  do  for  my 
neighbor  the  favor  he  asks  with  sullen  reluctance, 
with  w^ords  which  show  that  I  regard  him  as  an  in- 
truder and  his  request  as  an  impertinence,  I  make 
the  favor  a  bitterness  instead  of  a  blessing  to  him. 


124  Faith  and  Character, 

A  penny  given,  a  little,  insignificant  serv^ice  rendered 
with  a  smile  and  a  blessing,  is  more  to  the  receiver 
than  a  princely  gift  bestowed  with  a  curse.  That 
way  of  giving  has  found  expression  for  itself  in  the 
phrase,  'Ho  do  one  a  kindness,"  which  is  more  than 
simply  doing  a  favor,  however  great.  Now  this  char- 
acteristic of  God's  giving  is  strongly  marked.  We  are 
relieved  of  the  fear  that  God  will  give  what  we  ask  in 
such  a  way  as  to  make  us  regret  that  we  ever  asked. 
*' He  giveth,  simj>/y,"  for  that  is  the  true  meaning  of 
the  word,  rendered  "liberally."  And  then,  byway  of 
explaining  the  word,  there  is  added,  "  and  upbraideth 
not."  So  that  the  text  says  just  this  :  that  God,  when 
He  bestows  a  gift,  adds  nothing  to  it  w^hich  may  take 
from  its  graciousness.  He  gives  the  gift  simply ; 
which  is  just  what  Solomon  says  in  other  words  : 
"  The  blessing  of  the  Lord,  it  maketh  rich,  and  He 
addeth  no  sorrow  with  it ; "  and  Paul  likewise  tells  us 
that  ^'  the  gifts  and  calling  of  God  are  without  repent- 
ance." If  men's  own  conscious  wickedness  and  un- 
worthiness  make  God's  gifts  a  reproach  to  them,  the 
reproach  is  not  God's.  God  gives  the  gift  simply 
and  in  good  faith  :  the  reproach  comes  from  the  re- 
ceiver's side.  There  is  no  reproach  given  with  the 
sunshine  w^iich  streams  into  the  bad  man's  window 
and  awakes  him  to  another  day  of  crime.  There  is 
no  reproach  falling  with  the  rain  and  the  dew  into 
the  field  w^on  by  oppression  and  robbery.  "  He  mak- 
eth His  sun  to  rise  on  the  evil  and  on  the  good,  and 
sendeth  rain  on  the  just  and  on  the  unjust." 

Then,  too,  as  regards  human  giving,  self  enters  in 


The  Divine  Gift  of  Wisdom.  125 

various  subtle  ways  into  our  gifts,  unconsciously  of- 
ten, so  that  not  unfrequently  we  give  a  stone  where 
we  think  we  are  giving  bread.  Sometimes  a  request 
betrays  the  folly  or  the  ignorance  of  the  asker ;  and 
then,  how  often  the  sense  of  our  own  superiority  gets 
into  our  answer,  and  gives  it  a  flavor  of  reproach  ex- 
quisitely painful  to  him  who  asked  of  us  only  help 
and  not  upbraiding.  Sometimes  a  child  or  a  weak 
brother  comes  to  us  for  aid  in  some  matter  which, 
perchance,  we  think  quite  beneath  our  dignity.  Do 
we  always  stoop  gracefully  and  cheerfully  to  the  lit- 
tle thing,  or  does  our  reluctance  or  inability  to  un- 
bend make  itself  appreciated,  and  carry  with  it  an  up- 
braiding ?  Our  children  ask  absurd  questions  some- 
times, and  we  are  in  danger  of  checking  the  healt4i- 
f  ul  spirit  of  inquiry,  of  doing  the  little  hearts  a  w^rong 
and  of  brushing  the  bloom  from  their  impulsive  nat- 
uralness, by  our  ridicule  or  our  rebuke.  That  is  not 
simple  giving ;  giving  out  of  the  simple,  unmixed 
desire  to  do  another  good.  And  that  is  not  the  way 
God  gives.  He  has  no  need  to  be  anxious  for  His 
own  greatness  or  dignity.  He  is  so  great  that  He  can 
afford  to  be  simple.  He  is  too  loving  to  despise 
the  smallest  matter  which  concerns  His  feeblest  child. 
If  our  children's  requests  appear  absurd  to  us,  how 
must  many  of  our  requests  appear  to  God  ?  What 
folly  may  He  not  detect  under  so  many  of  the  smooth 
and  stately  petitions  which  daily  rise  to  His  ear  ? 
I  think  if  the  wisdom  of  our  prayers  were  all  that 
kept  them  from  reproach,  we  should  get  little  be- 
sides upbraiding  at  the  mercy-seat.     But  no  :  ''Like 


126  Faith  and  Character. 

as  a  father  pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth 
them  that  fear  Him."  And  why  ?  For  the  very  rea- 
son which  might  seem  to  make  the  approach  to  Him 
so  hard  :  because  He  knows  so  much.  Ignorance  and 
weakness  have  their  best  chance  of  a  hearing  with  in- 
finite wisdom.  He  knoweth  our  frame,  our  mental 
and  moral,  no  less  than  our  bodily  constitution.  Lit- 
tleness ceases  to  be  a  reproach  in  His  presence.  We 
are  all  alike  little  there  ;  and  it  is  a  delight  to  be  able 
to  shelter  ourselves  under  such  greatness  ;  to  be  en- 
compassed by  it  and  swallowed  up  in  it,  for  it  touches 
us  every^vhere  so  lovingly  and  so  intelligently. 

If,  then,  any  man  lack  wisdom,  let  him  ask  of  God. 
No  one  else  has  the  gift  to  give  him,  and  if  any  one 
else  had  it,  if  the  thing  lay  in  human  hands,  James 
could  not  speak  as  confidently  as  he  does  here  about 
the  certainty  of  receiving  it.  But  with  a  God  as  the 
giver  whose  A^ery  nature  it  is  to  give,  and  Avith  the 
word  of  Christ  behind  him,  ''  Every  one  that  asketh 
receiveth  ;  and  he  that  seeketh  findeth  ;  and  to  him 
that  knocketh  it  shall  be  opened," — our  apostle  has  a 
good  warrant  for  saying  :  "  It  shall  be  given  him  ;  let 
him  ask  in  faith,  nothing  w^avering. " 

Now,  do  you  see  how  much  is  implied  in  this  assur- 
ance, and  what  an  invaluable  one  it  is  to  you  and  me  ? 
Bear  in  mind  the  line  of  our  thought.  Remember 
we  are  concerned  with  the  question  of  making  char- 
acter, of  living  rightly,  of  getting  manhood  out  of  trial 
and  temptation,  of  cutting  a  straight  path  through 
the  besetments  of  this  world.  This  is  our  problem, 
and  this  statement  of  the  text  means  simply  that  you 


The  Divine   Gift  of  Wisdom,  127 

and  I  can  solve  that  problem  ;  that  we  can  learn  how 
to  live,  and  to  live  purely  and  nobly  ;  that  if  life  is  a 
fight,  we  may  be  victors  in  that  fight  ;  that  strong  and 
subtle  as  temptation  is,  bitter  though  trial  be,  though 
life  in  the  moral  sphere  presents  many  and  hard 
questions,  we  need  not  walk  the  world  as  ignorant 
victims  led  to  sacrifice  by  sin  and  sorrow,  but  rather 
may  be  king's  sons  and  daughters  in  our  Heavenly 
Father's  house,  having  our  conversation  in  heaven, 
making  trial  and  difficulty  minister  to  our  perfection, 
and  being  intelligent  sympathizers  and  co-workers 
with  God.  This  is  the  gift  of  wisdom.  This  result 
only  wisdom,  the  wisdom  from  above,  will  enable  us 
to  compass.  God  only  holds  the  key  to  that  alpha- 
bet of  ciphers — life  ;  and  God  is  pledged  to  give  us 
that  key  for  the  asking. 

But  as  to  the  nature  of  that  gift,  you  are  to  notice 
particularly  one  thing.  I  called  your  attention,  at 
the  outset,  to  the  distinction  between  wisdom  and 
knowledge,  and  showed  that  wisdom,  in  the  scriptural 
sense,  is  bound  up  with  character.  And  in  pursuance 
of  that  thought,  remember  that  while  character  and 
right  living  are  the  ends  which  wisdom  contemplates, 
wisdom  also  begins  not  in  knowledge  but  in  charac- 
ter. That  is  to  say,  if  you  ask  me  how  God  will  an- 
swer your  prayer  for  wisdom,  while  I  can  by  no  means 
answer  you  fully,  I  can  tell  you  how  He  will  begin 
with  you  in  every  case.  Not  by  drawing  up  for  you 
systems  of  living,  social  theories,  methods  of  study 
and  of  exercise,  moral  philosophies.  He  will  begin 
by  laying  down  for  you  a  basis  of  character  in  these 


128  Faith  and  CJiaracter, 

two  words — Fear  God.  He  will  tell  you  that  wisdom 
— the  wisdom  you  want  to  live  by — depends  first,  not 
on  what  you  know,  but  on  what  you  are.  It  is  not 
knowledge  that  solves  the  great,  practical  problem 
of  life.  It  is  being  in  right  relation  to  God.  Try 
and  get  that  truth  sharply  defined  in  your  thought ; 
then  you  will  have  some  idea  of  what  you  are  ask- 
ing for  w^hen  you  ask  for  wisdom.  *'  The  fear  of  the 
Lord  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom."  Knowledge,  in- 
deed, is  not  excluded  from  heavenly  wisdom,  but 
knowledge  is  to  get  its  direction  and  its  quality,  and 
its  application  from  the  stand-point  of  the  fear  of 
God.  Otherwise  it  has  nothing  to  do  wMth  wisdom. 
I  say  this  on  the  authority  of  our  Lord  himself.  He 
was  discussing  this  very  question  how  to  live,  and  he 
said  that  the  first  thing  was  not  to  know,  but  to  be 
right  toward  God:  ''Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of 
God  and  His  righteousness."  The  rest  would  come  in 
due  time  and  order.  And  when  Nicodemus  came  to 
him,  assuming  that  the  first  element  of  heavenly  wis- 
dom was  knowledge,  and  saying,  "  Rabbi,  thou  art  a 
teacher,  thou  doest  great  things  by  God's  help,  thou 
canst  teach  us  the  things  we  want  to  know  ;  "  he  re- 
ceived an  answer  which  cut  down  to  the  very  roots  of 
his  mistake.  The  first  thing,  Nicodemus,  is  not  to 
know,  but  to  be.  Entrance  into  the  kingdom  of  God 
and  life  in  it,  is,  primarily,  a  matter  of  character,  not 
of  knowledge.  "  Except  a  man  be  born  again,  he 
cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God."  And  so,  again, 
when  Jesus  went  up  to  the  feast  and  taught,  the  Jews 
marvelled.     They  thought  of  nothing  but  his  knowl- 


The  Divine  Gift  of  Wisdom,  129 

edge.  They  said,  ''  How  knoweth  this  man  letters, 
having  never  learned  ? "  And  he  answered  them  : 
''  If  any  man  wills  to  do  His  will,  he  shall  know  of 
the  doctrine,"  whether  it  be  God's  truth  or  no. 

Perhaps  you  will  repeat  the  question :  How  will 
God  impart  wisdom  to  me  ?  I  have  told  you  how 
He  will  begin  ;  beyond  that  I  cannot  say.  His  meth- 
ods and  His  instruments  will  differ  in  different  cases, 
according  to  the  material  upon  which  He  has  to 
work.  It  has  always  been  so  ;  even  as  the  writer  to 
the  Hebrews  tells  us  that  God  spake  ''in  divers  man- 
ners "  unto  the  fathers.  He  has  used  many  and  strange 
instruments  in  times  past.  He  has  made  very  com- 
mon things  the  means  of  introducing  men  to  His  wis- 
dom : — a  stone  on  which  Jacob  pillowed  his  head  ; 
a  thorn-bush  where  Moses  pastured  his  flock  ;  a  com- 
mon stick  in  Moses'  hand  ;  a  dumb  beast  on  which 
Balaam  rode  ;  a  flask  of  oil  in  a  poor  widow's  hut. 
There  is  no  predicting  what  things  or  what  facts  God 
may  make  vehicles  of  His  wisdom  to  us.  One  or  two 
things  we  may  count  on  as  very  likely  to  happen, 
when  we  ask  and  receive  God's  gift  of  wisdom.  One 
is  that  our  wisdom  will  be  thrust  aside  in  a  great 
many  cases  ;  that  our  conclusions  and  pet  theories 
will  be  contradicted  ;  and  that  very  different  courses 
will  be  marked  out  for  us  from  those  we  had  chosen 
for  ourselves.  Another  is  that  we  shall  not  get  our 
wisdom  all  at  once.  Jesus  himself,  in  his  earthly  life, 
increased  in  wisdom  as  well  as  in  stature.  We  must 
be  prepared  for  God's  taking  time,  and  developing 
His  gift  along  the  line  of  the  trials  and  temptations 


130  Faith  and  Character. 

which  go  to  perfection  of  character.  Much  of  our 
wisdom  will  come  through  these.  So  that  in  the 
attainment  of  this  gift,  as  ever^'where  in  our  Chris- 
tian discipline,  we  must  "  let  patience  have  her  per- 
fect work." 

Another  fact  is  that  the  wisdom  which  God  gives 
will  leave  us  in  ignorance  of  a  great  many  things. 
A  part  of  our  wisdom  will  come  in  our  learning  that 
there  are  things  we  cannot  learn,  and  in  our  cheerful 
waiting  before  those  closed  gates,  till  God  shall  see 
fit  to  open  them.  Such  will  be  some  of  the  deep, 
fundamental  mysteries  of  His  government.  Such 
will  be  some  of  His  providences  which  touch  us  most 
hardly  ;  dispensations  of  His  which  shall  seem  charged 
only  with  wrath.  Mere  knowledge,  or  mere  human 
reason,  in  the  presence  of  these  things,  will  be  like 
one  who  tries  to  combine  the  two  sides  of  a  stereo- 
scopic picture  with  the  naked  eye.  He  cannot  bring 
them  into  unity,  even  as  reason  cannot  reconcile 
God's  providences  with  each  other.  Wisdom  will 
apply  the  glass  of  faith,  and  keep  it  fixed,  spite  of  all 
the  confusion,  until,  not  perhaps  till  the  clearer  light 
of  heaven  shall  have  risen,  all  the  dealings  of  God 
shall  fall  into  place  as  one  perfect  whole. 

Here,  then,  let  us  sum  up  the  matter.  The  great 
question  for  you  and  me  to  answer  is,  how  to  live  and 
to  build  up  character  according  to  God's  law. 

The  question  is  one  which  human  research  cannot 
answer  satisfactorily.  History  shows  that  the  men 
who  have  had  most  knowledge,  have  not  known  best 
how  to  live. 


TJie  Divine  Gift  of  Wisdom.  131 

It  is  answered  for  us  by  the  offer  of  wisdom  ;  that 
heavenly  gift,  which  is  pure  and  peaceable  and  gentle 
and  patient ;  that  gift  which,  in  its  very  essence,  is 
bound  up  with  character. 

The  gift  is  promised  us  for  the  asking,  on  the  au- 
thority of  a  God  whose  nature  it  is  to  give,  and  who 
offers  the  gift  simply,  to  all  who  ask  in  faith,  without 
anything  to  detract  from  its  value. 

And  this  wisdom,  beginning  in  the  fear  of  God,  is 
not  only  for  the  general  regulation  of  life.  It  de- 
scends to  details.  You  and  I  can  have  it  and  avail 
ourselves  of  it  in  those  daily,  petty  trials  and  ques- 
tions which  make  up  so  much  of  life.  It  is  a  gift 
for  mothers,  to  teach  them  to  be  right  and  to  keep 
right  in  all  the  petty  perplexities  of  domestic  life  ;  for 
business  men,  to  help  them  in  maintaining  high  ideals 
and  honest  lives  ;  for  school  children,  to  keep  them 
faithful  to  duty,  and  to  solve  for  them  the  questions 
of  right  doing  which  arise  in  their  intercourse  with 
their  fellows.  All  of  us  may  walk  with  God,  and 
when  we  are  ignorant,  ask  and  receive. 

If  such  is  the  importance  and  value  of  this  gift, 
what  is  life  without  it  ?  Is  it  not  a  serious  thing  for 
any  man  to  launch  out  upon  that  troubled  sea  with- 
out this  compass  ?  Is  it  not,  in  view  of  what  we  have 
seen,  the  best  economy  of  life  to  begin  it  in  the  fear 
of  God,  through  faith  in  Jesus  Christ  ?  Shall  we  not 
be  held  to  a  fearful  responsibility  if,  with  divine  wis- 
dom placed  freely  at  our  control,  and  offered  with 
abundant  love,  we  choose  to  live  by  our  own  theories, 
and  make  shipwreck  of  life  at  last  ? 


THE   PATCHED   GARMENT. 


LUKE   V. 

(;^6)  And  he  spake  also  a  parable  unto  them.  No  man  put- 
teth  a  piece  of  a  new  garment  upon  an  old  ;  if  other- 
wise, then  he  both  will  rend  the  new,  and  the  piece 
that  was  taken  out  of  the  new  agrecth  not  with  the  old. 


VIII. 

THE    PATCHED   GARMENT. 

At  the  feast  which  Levi  made  for  his  friends  on 
the  occasion  of  his  forsaking  liis  old  employment  and 
entering  upon  the  service  of  Christ,  the  disciples  of 
John  and  tlie  Pharisees  for  once  joined  forces,  in 
charging  upon  Christ  neglect  of  the  fasts  which 
formed  so  important  a  part  of  their  practice. 

Our  Lord's  answer  furnishes  several  points  of  great 
interest,  but  we  are  concerned  at  present  with  only 
one  part  of  it ;  that,  namely,  which  contrasts  the  old 
and  the  new — the  legal  and  the  gospel  dispensations. 
Stated  fasts  belonged  to  the  ceremonial  economy. 
That  was  now  passing  away  with  the  entrance  of  the 
gospel.  The  gospel  economy,  with  its  large  liberty, 
would  indeed  permit,  and  even  encourage,  fasting  or 
any  similar  rite  as  a  means  conscientiously  adopted 
to  promote  a  higher  spiritual  consecration  and  ser- 
vice ;  but  the  day  of  fasting  for  fasting's  sake  had 
gone  by.  The  gospel  system  was  a  new  and  beautiful 
w^hole.  Men  were  not  to  take  such  parts  of  it  as  com- 
mended themselves  to  their  acceptance,  and  to  seek 
to  combine  them  with  the  worn-out  system  of  rites 
and  ceremonies.  The  incongruity  would  be  apparent. 
The  new  system  would  be  mutilated,  the  old  would 


136  Faith  and  Character. 

lose  its  consistency.  The  effect  would  be  like  that 
of  taking  a  piece  out  of  a  new  garment  to  mend  a 
worn-out  one.  The  new  garment  would  be  spoiled, 
and  the  rotten  threads  of  the  old  garment  would  not 
hold  the  new  piece  ;  it  would  soon  tear  itself  loose, 
and  the  rent  would  be  made  worse.  Let  the  old  gar- 
ment be  thrown  aside  altogether,  and  the  new  substi- 
tuted. Let  the  old  system  of  ceremonies  go,  and  let 
the  gospel  be  accepted  entire. 

The  applications  of  this  truth  are  very  numerous. 
It  would  be  interesting  to  study  them,  for  instance, 
in  the  history  of  the  church,  and  to  see  how  the  vari- 
ous attempts  to  combine  the  gospel,  or  portions  of 
it  with  other  faiths,  have  failed.  Tlic  liistory  of  the 
apostolic  church  shows  how  futile  were  the  efforts  to 
graft  it  upon  Judaism.  Peter,  to  take  a  single  in- 
stance, would  have  striven  to  make  his  new  faith  and 
apostolic  zeal  work  Avith  the  Jewish  separativeness 
which  would  have  kept  him  from  the  gentile  Corne- 
lius. That  vision  of  the  great  sheet,  with  its  mingled 
beasts,  tore  the  patch  loose  from  tlie  old  garment  at 
once.  Still  worse  was  the  fate  of  those  later  attempts 
to  combine  the  gospel  with  the  philosophies  of  hea- 
thenism. The  two  would  not  go  together.  The 
patched  system  was  worse  rent  than  the  out-worn 
creed. 

But  I  wish  to  discuss  this  fact  in  its  more  limited 
relations  to  personal  faith  and  character  ;  and,  with 
this  view,  let  us  first  take  up  the  figure  of  the  text — 
this  new  patch  on  old  cloth — in  some  very  familiar 
applications. 


The  PatcJied  Garment.  137 

We  appreciate  easily  the  offensiveness  of  what  is 
incongruous.  It  is  fatal  alike  to  beauty,  to  symmetry, 
and  to  effectiveness.  A  sparrow  is  not  as  beautiful 
as  a  bird  of  Paradise,  yet  the  little  brown  bird  is  a 
pleasant  sight.  Try  to  fasten  upon  him  the  gorgeous 
plumage  of  the  other  bird,  and  you  make  him  ridicu- 
lous at  once.  His  beauty  consists  in  being  simply 
himself.  An  inferior  thing  that  is  constant  to  its 
own  ideal,  consistent,  true,  is  a  far  more  useful  and  a 
far  more  pleasurable  thing  than  when  you  try  to 
make  it  look  like  something  else,  or  do  the  work  of 
something  else,  or  take  it  out  of  its  place  and  put  it 
in  circumstances  to  which  it  has  no  adaptation.  Take 
a  plain  stone  wall,  for  instance.  There  is  nothing 
very  artistic  about  it,  but  if  it  be  well  and  truly 
built,  a  simple  wall  and  nothing  else,  it  is  not  an  un- 
pleasing  object.  But  now  go  to  the  ruins  of  that 
Gothic  church,  and  bring  away  the  sculptured  key- 
stone of  an  arch,  the  fragments  of  a  carved  screen,  a 
column  with  an  elaborately  cut  capital,  and  sundry 
pinnacles  and  gargoyles,  and  work  these  into  the 
masonry  of  your  wall,  and  set  up  your  pinnacles 
along  the  top,  and  let  your  gargoyles  protrude  their 
hideous  heads  at  intervals  :  you  have  made  a  ridicu- 
lous thing  out  of  your  stone  wall.  People  at  once 
see  that  something  is  there  which  belongs  to  quite 
another  order  of  things.  Everybody  acknowledges 
the  difference  between  the  church  and  the  plain 
wall,  and  the  difference  offends  no  one  so  long  as 
each  keeps  its  place  and  is  simply  itself.  But  the  at- 
tempt to  patch  one  with  the  other  emphasizes  the 


138  Faith  and  CJia^'actcr. 

difference  offensively.  The  rent  is  made  worse  :  the 
beauty  is  taken  from  the  church,  and  the  wall  is  made 
ugly. 

I  remember  an  old  farmer  who,  when  he  was  about 
sixty  years  of  age,  professed  faith  in  Christ.  He  was 
full  of  zeal,  and,  for  a  time,  was  like  a  flaming  torch 
in  the  neighborhood.  I  never  saw  a  man  who  seemed 
to  feel  so  keenly  the  awful  risk  he  had  run  in  delay- 
ing his  salvation  so  long.  He  could  not  be  in  a 
prayer-meeting  without  rising  to  warn  his  fellow-men 
against  his  mistake.  But  he  was  also  an  ignorant 
man,  and  his  new  experience  only  deepened  his  sense 
of  his  ignorance  of  the  things  of  God  ;  and  he  used 
to  shut  himself  in  his  room  with  volumes  on  syste- 
matic theology,  and  painfully  wade  through  their 
contents,  and  then  come  down  to  the  prayer-meeting 
and  attempt  to  reproduce  what  he  had  read  ;  and 
you  can  easily  imagine  the  result.  So  long  as  he 
kept  to  his  own  experience,  so  long  as  he  was  just 
himself,  speaking  of  what  he  knew  and  felt,  he  spoke 
with  power.  The  moment  he  tried  to  patch  the  theo- 
logian upon  the  plain  farmer,  he  spoiled  it  all.  The 
theology  was  ruined  and  so  was  the  personal  experi- 
ence. The  ignorance  which  no  one  would  have 
thought  of  in  the  plain  man  speaking  out  of  a  full 
heart,  was  thrust  into  prominence  by  the  ridiculous 
attempt  to  play  the  part  of  a  theological  teacher. 
The  rent  was  made  worse. 

It  would  be  easy  to  multiply  similar  illustrations. 
These  are  all  that  are  necessary  to  show  us  the  ordi- 
nary applications  of  the  truth.     Let  us  now  look  at 


The  Patched  Garment,  139 

its  applications  to  the  gospel  as  a  system  and  as  a 
life. 

The  gospel  is  a  unit ;  one  and  inseparable.  It  is 
sufficient  unto  itself.  It  asks  no  aid  from  any  source 
outside  of  itself.  It  needs  no  combination  to  de- 
velop its  peculiar  virtues.  The  great  truth  it  sets 
before  men  is  Christ  all,  and  in  all.  And  it  does  its 
work  for  and  in  man  upon  the  condition  that  it  be 
received  as  it  is  :  entire,  adding  notliing  and  subtract- 
ing nothing.  It  does  not  engage  that  there  shall  be 
virtue  in  its  fragments  apart  from  the  whole.  You 
may  take  up  the  lock  of  that  rifle,  and  pull  and  snap 
it  as  much  as  you  please,  and  it  will  be  a  good  while 
before  you  shoot  anything.  You  must  combine  it 
with  the  barrel  and  the  stock.  Neitlier  lock,  stock, 
nor  barrel  is  good  for  anything,  except  as  they  to- 
gether make  up  a  rifle.  Similarly,  I  cannot  answer 
for  the  effect  of  a  single  Christian  precept  or  doc- 
trine disjoined  from  the  whole.  It  is  only  a  patch, 
cut  out  from  a  good,  solid  garment,  and  refusing  to 
match  with  any  other  fabric. 

Nicodemus  came  to  Christ  full  of  this  notion  of 
patching  pieces  of  the  new  Teacher's  doctrine  upon 
the  old  Jewish  robe.  The  thought  of  any  inconsist- 
ency or  incongruity  never  occurred  to  him.  He  sim- 
ply expected  to  get  from  Christ  certain  new  items  of 
knowledge,  certain  new  maxims  of  duty,  perhaps, 
which  he  might  combine  with  his  familiar  religious 
ideas.  Christ  very  soon  opened  his  eyes  to  that  de- 
lusion. It  is  curious  to  see  how  the  Rabbi's  first 
remark  and  Christ's  answer  are  like  pieces  from  two 


140  Faith  and  Character. 

entirely  different  garments.  The  Rabbi  says,  "Thou 
art  a  teacher  from  God.  The  kingdom  of  God  is  mere 
teaching  and  learning."  Christ  says,  "Except  a  man 
be  born  again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God. 
The  entrance  into  the  kingdom  of  God,  Nicodemus,  is 
not  through  learning,  but  through  becoming  a  new 
man.  The  kingdom  of  God  embraces  new  w^orks 
indeed,  but  it  requires  a  new  man  to  do  the  new 
works.  The  question  is  not  a  question  of  a  few  scraps 
of  wisdom  which  I  might  give  you,  a  few  works  which 
you  think  j^ou  might  learn  to  do.  It  is  a  question  of 
a  new  economy,  a  new  administration,  a  new  nature 
in  you."  Christ's  Avords  in  Nicodemus'  mouth,  and 
Christ's  works  in  his  hands,  would  have  been  indeed 
like  a  piece  of  a  new  garment  sewn  upon  an  old  one. 
Tlie  rent  w^ould  liavc  been  made  worse.  They  would 
have  torn  liim  loose  from  both  economies.  The  Jews 
would  have  rejected  such  sentiments  with  horror, 
and  would  probably  have  stoned  him  for  blasphemy. 
They  w^ould  have  cursed  him  as  a  traitor  to  the  tradi- 
tions of  the  elders.  The  Jewish  ceremonial  robe 
would  not  hold  that  new  piece  for  a  moment :  while, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  new  garment  would  liave  been 
disfigured.  Nicodemus,  tlie  Master  in  Israel,  with  a 
few  of  Christ's  precepts  on  his  lips,  and  a  little  of 
Christ's  practice  in  his  life,  would  not  have  repre- 
sented Christ  and  the  gospel,  any  more  than  the  patch 
represents  the  garment.  He  would  have  been  a  cari- 
cature of  a  Christian. 

And  yet  it  is  on  this  very  kind  of  patchwork,  tliis 
effort  to  piece  fragments  of  Christianity  upon  other 


The  Patched  Garment.  141 

systems,  or  to  combine  the  practice  of  gospel  pre- 
cepts with  an  unrenewed  nature,  that  scores  and  lum- 
dreds  of  men  and  women  are  engaged  to-day.  I  do 
not  think  that  square  rejection  of  the  gospel  is  much 
more  deplorable  than  these  attempts,  which  really 
amount  to  the  same  thing.  I  doubt  if  hostile  sys- 
tems are  more  dangerous  than  these  hybrids. 

Take  the  gospel  as  a  history  and  as  a  moral  code. 
Nothing  is  more  common  than  the  practice  of  pick- 
ing out  of  it  this  or  that,  holding  it  up  to  admira- 
tion, and  even  reverence,  working  it  up  with  some 
philosophic  system  of  morality,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
casting  away  a  large  part  of  what  accompanies  it  in 
the  New  Testament.  Modern  literature  is  full  of  such 
experiments.  Skeptical  schools  are  founded  upon 
this  theory  of  dealing  with  the  gospel.  We  are  told, 
for  example,  that  the  gospel  system  of  morality  is  of 
a  very  pure  and  elevated  character,  that  Christ  him- 
self was  a  model  of  excellence,  and,  in  the  same 
breath,  that  the  gospels  are  a  mixture  of  history  and 
of  legend,  that  miracles  are  an  absurdity  and  an  im- 
possibility, that  Jesus  was  no  more  than  man,  and 
that  his  dying  on  the  cross  for  the  world's  sins  is  a 
mere  theological  fiction.  We  are  met  in  the  same 
volume  by  such  a  panegyric  as  this  :  *'  Wliatever  may 
be  the  surprises  of  the  future,  Jesus  will  never  be  sur- 
passed. All  ages  will  proclaim  that  among  the  sons 
of  men,  there  is  none  born  greater  than  Jesus.  Tlie 
sermon  on  the  mount  is  the  most  beautiful  code  of 
perfect  life  that  any  moralist  has  ever  traced."  And 
then,  turning  back  to  read  the  life  of  this  wonderful 


142  Faith  and  Character. 

moralist,  we  find  it  gravely  asserted  that  the  great- 
ness of  his  moral  ideal  compelled  him  to  seek  its  ac- 
complisliment  by  impure  means,  by  pretending  to  be 
wliat  he  was  not,  by  concocting  juggler's  tricks  to 
pass  with  the  multitude  for  miracles.*  Is  not  this,  in- 
deed, rending  the  new  garment  ?  This  cutting  of 
patches  out  of  the  New  Testament  has  gone  on  at 
such  a  furious  rate  that  one  may  be  pardoned  for 
using  the  caustic  words  of  a  modern  apologist,'  in 
speaking  of  the  boldness  with  which  the  name  of 
**  Christian  "  is  assumed,  *'\Vhen  you  have  ceased 
to  believe  all  that  is  specially  characteristic  of  the 
New  Testament,  its  history,  its  miracles,  its  peculiar 
doctrines,  you  may  still  be  a  genuine  Christian." 
They  separate  the  example  of  Jesus  from  his  salva- 
tion. They  cut  out  his  teaching,  but  leave  behind  his 
atonement.  He  is  an  apostle,  but  he  is  not  a  High 
Priest.  His  manhood  can  be  worked  into  their  phil- 
osophies, but  it  must  be  cut  loose  from  his  divine 
nature.  Christ  was  a  splendid  pattern  of  manhood. 
Oh,  yes  ;  but  everything  in  the  New  Testament  re- 
lating to  miracles  is  fable  and  legend  ;  because,  you 
see,  a  miracle  is  plainly  impossible. 

Now  the  question  at  present  is  not  whether  Christ 
was  divine,  or  whether  miracles  are  possible  or  not. 
The  point  is  that  whatever  leaves  out  these  elements, 
is  not  Christianity,  however  it  may  call  itself  so.  It 
were  as  sensible  to  cut  a  piece  from  yonder  splendid 
velvet  mantle,  and  sew  it  upon  a  calico  gown,  and 

^  Renan.  ^jjei^ry  Rogers. 


The  Patched  Garment,  143 

then  to  say  that  the  calico  is  velvet.  Christianity,  it 
cannot  be  repeated  too  often,  is  not  the  combination 
of  certain  elements  of  the  gospel  with  some  moral  or 
philosophic  theory  of  man's  devising.  It  is  the  gos- 
pel pure  and  simple  ;  the  gospel  entire,  the  gospel  as 
it  was  given  by  Christ,  and  illustrated  by  Christ,  and 
borne  witness  to,  with  ''signs  and  wonders,  and  di- 
vers miracles  and  gifts  of  the  Holy  Ghost,"  and 
made  over  to  man  in  its  fulness  and  power  by  the 
blood  of  the  everlasting  covenant.  He  who  would 
call  himself  Christian  must  take  the  gospel  thus,  or 
call  himself  by  another  name.  Christ's  exalted  hu- 
manity is  not  the  gospel.  The  sermon  on  the  mount 
is  not  the  gospel.  Christ's  example  is  not  the  gos-- 
pel.  Christ's  deity  is  not  the  gospel.  Miracles  are 
not  the  gospel.  But  Christ's  deity  and  Iiumanity  ; 
Christ's  person  and  doctrine  ;  precept  and  example  ; 
miracles  and  gracious  words  ;  atonement  and  teach- 
ing, all  blend  in  one  consummate  whole  to  form  the 
gospel  ;  and  any  presentation  of  it  which  leaves  out 
any  of  these,  belittles  it,  and  rends  the  new  and  perfect 
garment. 

The  application  of  any  of  these  elements  disjoined 
from  the  rest  is  equally  unfortunate.  They  fare  like 
the  new  piece  on  the  old  garment.  Take  Christ's 
person  and  join  it  with  any  human  philosophy  of 
morals,  with  the  best  and  purest  of  the  much  lauded 
pagan  creeds,  and  your  elements  will  not  combine. 
Christ  does  not  fit  into  Stoicism,  or  Platonism,  or 
Mahometanism.  Take  the  story  of  Socrates  and  put 
the  Christ  of  the  gospel  in  the  place  of  Socrates,  and 


144  Faith  and  CJiaracter. 

the  result  would  be  simply  monstrous.  Christ  is  too 
large  for  these.  He  is  of  another  mould  and  of  an- 
other fibre.  He  tears  loose  from  them  on  every  hand. 
His  aims  are  different,  his  spirit  is  purer,  his  character 
is  nobler. 

You  say,  perhaps,  you  accept  the  historic  gospels 
so  far  as  they  present  Christ  as  a  man,  and  you  piece 
this  mere  humanity  of  Jesus  upon  your  rationalism 
which  rejects  miracles.  I  have  only  to  say,  when  you 
find  yourself  confronted  in  that  very  manhood  Avith 
a  greater  miracle  than  was  ever  ascribed  to  the  Son  of 
man,  try  to  find  your  way  out  of  the  difficulty  through 
the  mere  manhood  of  Christ.  Try  to  explain  his  life, 
his  teaching,  his  power  in  the  world  by  human  con- 
ditions, and  see  if  the  rent  be  not  made  worse. 

You  say,  and  say  honestly,  no  doubt,  that  you  want 
to  be  right  and  to  do  right,  but  you  can  accept  the 
gospel  only  in  part.  Christ's  moral  code  is  all  very 
well,  but  the  doctrine  of  the  new  birth  you  cannot 
accept.  So  you  go  to  cutting  patches  again.  You  cut 
the  moral  code  clear  from  the  new  birth.  You  will 
keep  Christ's  precepts  without  being  a  new  creature. 
You  will  sew  the  new  code  upon  the  old  nature. 

Very  well.  Some  people  in  a  city  think  they  will 
build  a  f(mntain.  They  engage  an  engineer,  and  a 
noted  sculptor.  A  beautiful  design  is  carried  out  in 
stone  or  bronze.  The  water  is  to  pour  from  vases  in 
the  hands  of  sea-nymphs,  and  to  spout  from  the  horns 
of  tritons.  At  last  all  is  ready.  The  crowd  assemble 
to  witness  the  opening  of  the  fountain.  The  signal  is 
given,  there  is  a  little  spirt  from  a  jet  here  and  there, 


The  Patched  Garment.  145 

and  then  all  is  dry  as  before.  The  stupid  engineer 
has  drawn  his  water  from  a  point  almost  as  low  as 
the  base  of  the  fountain,  and  there  is  no  head  to  send 
the  water  through  the  pipes.  But  a  more  competent 
workman  comes  to  the  rescue.  He  lays  a  large 
main.  He  leads  it  to  a  deep  lake  or  reservoir  far  up 
above  the  town  ;  and  now,  at  the  signal,  the  crystal 
waters  shoot  high  into  the  air,  and  drape  the  beau- 
tiful forms  with  tlieir  falling  spray.  Oh,  my  friend, 
I  greatly  fear  you  have  not  rightly  estimated  that 
moral  system  of  Christ.  It  is  grander  than  you 
think  ;  higher  than  you  are  aware ;  and  to  make 
your  life  flow  through  it  to  refresh  the  world,  you  will 
need  something  besides  the  pressure  of  your  feeble 
will.  Your  reservoir  is  too  low  down.  If  your  life 
is  to  fill  that  godlike  outline  of  virtue,  its  impulse 
must  be  divine.  If  your  impulse  is  earthly,  your  life 
will  be  earthly.  That  moral  code  was  meant  for  a 
new  man,  and  nothing  but  a  birth  from  above,  noth- 
ing but  an  impulse  generated  and  maintained  by  God 
Himself,  will  ever  enable  you  to  live  it.  The  new 
code  and  the  new  man  will  not  be  separated.  If  they 
shall  not  go  together  the  gospel  will  be  caricatured 
by  you,  and  the  new  precepts  will  break  loose  con- 
tinually from  the  old  will  and  the  old  passions  and 
the  old  habits,  and  the  rent  will  be  worse. 

Men  talk  of  turning  over  a  new  leaf — of  beginning 
over  again.  How  many  times  you  hear  it.  *'  Yes,  I 
have  been  careless,  self-indulgent,  hasty  and  passion- 
ate ;  I  am  going  to  try  and  do  better."  Never  does 
the  old  year  strike  its  last  hour,  that  hundreds  and 
7 


1 4^  Faith  and  Character, 

thousands  of  people  are  not  lying  wakeful  and 
thoughtful  upon  their  beds,  or  sitting  with  sober 
meditation  in  their  closets,  and  gathering  up  their 
faculties  into  mighty  resolutions  for  the  year  to  come. 
**  I  will  swear  no  more.  I  will  drink  no  more.  I 
will  go  to  the  house  of  God.  I  will  begin  to  read 
my  Bible."  The  resolutions  are  good  and  honest,  no 
doubt.  It  is  a  good  thing  that  one's  attention  has 
been  called  to  those  faults.  It  will  be  a  better  thing 
if  he  can  carry  out  his  resolution  and  master  them  ; 
but,  alas,  neither  the  good  resolutions  nor  their  ac- 
complishment go  far  enough.  It  is  patch-work  still ; 
patching  pieces  of  the  gospel  on  the  old  nature  ;  a 
temperance  piece,  and  a  Bible-reading  piece,  and  a 
church-going  piece,  upon  a  nature  which,  in  its  very 
quality  and  essence,  is  estranged  from  God.  The  man 
gives  up  an  indulgence  here  and  there,  says  to  God  in 
effect,  ''  Your  moral  law  may  come  and  occupy  this 
ground  which  has  been  occupied  by  my  misdoing  ;  " 
but  such  an  entrance  of  God's  law  is  like  the  occupa- 
tion of  some  remote  outpost  of  a  fortified  town  by  an 
invader.  The  citadel  is  still  unreached.  The  situa- 
tion is  commanded  by  the  garrison  of  the  town. 
There  is  no  conquest  until  the  invader  gets  in  there. 
You  reform  a  drunkard.  It  is  a  good  thing,  a  thing 
to  thank  God  for.  And  yet  making  him  a  sober 
man  does  not  accomplish  the  work  which  Christ 
wants  to  do  on  him.  Making  him  a  sober  man 
will  not  save  him.  He  may  become  a  sober  man  and 
remain  an  avaricious  man,  a  dishonest  man,  an  un- 
kind man,    a  licentious  man.      The  man   is   not  re- 


The  Patched  Garment,  147 

formed  ;  the  fountain  of  his  life  is  not  cleansed.  He 
is  better  than  he  was  in  that  one  thing,  but  he  is  not 
a  new  creature  in  Christ  Jesus.  His  reform  is  by  no 
means  a  safe  one  either.  He  has  taken  a  pledge  ;  he 
has  made  a  solemn  vow  in  good  faith,  but  the  pledge 
is  a  patch  sewn  upon  an  enervated  will,  upon  a  de- 
praved appetite,  upon  a  moral  nature  enfeebled  by 
indulgence,  and  these  are  too  weak  to  hold  the 
stitches.  It  will  not  be  strange  if  the  rent  is  made 
worse.  Give  the  man  a  new  nature,  a  new  point  of 
rest,  a  new  impulse  to  duty,  a  new  and  ruling  pas- 
sion for  Christ,  a  will  sustained  by  faith  ;  make  his 
whole  life  one  of  reliance  on  another's  strength  and 
another's  merit,  and  you  surround  his  temperance 
with  something  that  will  hold  it.  It  is  no  longer  a 
patch,  but  of  the  solid  fabric  woven  of  virtue,  knowl- 
edge, faith,  love,  patience. 

Yes,  that  is  what  Christ  wants  in  his  work  upon 
men — a  new  creature  ;  a  garment  like  his  own,  one 
piece,  without  seam.  On  you  who  are  revolving 
to-day  the  question  of  duty  and  of  destiny,  this 
truth  forces  itself.  Christianity  has  so  woven  itself 
into  the  social  fabric,  Christ's  ideas  circulate  so  un- 
consciously in  the  very  life-blood  of  society,  that 
hundreds  of  men  exhibit  Christian  traits,  and  are 
swayed  more  or  less  by  Christian  precepts  without 
being  Christians,  and  are  content  with  this  partial, 
fragmentary  reproduction  of  the  gospel.  But  it  is 
with  such  as  when,  from  the  ruins  of  a  buried  city, 
one  digs  out  a  beautifully  chiselled  marble  hand  or 
head.     Men  say,  "  how  beautiful  the  whole  must  be." 


148  Faith  and  Character, 

The  very  beauty  of  the  fragment  creates  special  dis- 
appointment at  the  loss  of  the  statue.  The  rent  is 
made  worse.  To  one  who  looks  at  this  matter  from 
Christ's  standpoint,  a  moral  man  without  consecra- 
tion to  Christ  is  a  sad  spectacle.  The  sense  of  his 
great,  fundamental  need  is  heightened  by  his  very 
excellencies.  He  is  so  honorable,  so  upright,  so 
kindly,  he  bears  himself  so  nobly  in  trouble,  he  is 
so  helpful  to  others,  that  we  long  for  the  presence 
in  him  of  that  one  power  that  would  gather  up  these 
shining  qualities  into  itself,  and  fuse  them  into  one 
absorbing  enthusiasm  for  Christ,  and  set  them  all 
working  together  toward  the  high  aims  of  Christ's 
kingdom.  There  was  sorrow  in  more  than  one  heart 
that  day  when  the  young  ruler  turned  his  back  on 
Jesus,  and  refused  the  one  thing  which  he  lacked. 
Jesus  mourned  no  less  than  he,  but  for  a  different 
cause.  He  loved  him  for  his  zeal,  his  honesty,  his 
fidelity  to  the  teachings  of  his  childhood,  but  he 
grieved  at  the  refusal  to  follow  him,  which  vitiated 
the  whole. 

I  say  to  you  plainly,  you  who  seek  virtue,  you  who 
believe  in  goodness,  you  who  love  and  would  lead 
pure  lives — only  one  thing  w^ll  compass  your  desire. 
It  is  not  the  forsaking  of  this  or  that  evil  habit.  It 
is  not  the  adoption  of  this  or  that  Christian  precept. 
It  is  not  the  assent  to  such  detached  portions  of  the 
gospel  as  may  commend  themselves  to  your  reason. 
These  are  good,  but  they  need  a  principle  to  unify 
them,  and  to  direct  them  upon  the  chief  good,  and 
to  mould  them  into  a  life.     But  one  thing  is  need- 


Tlie  PatcJied  Garment.  149 

ful,  and  that  is  the  new  life  of  the  gospel,  a  new  birth 
in  Christ  Jesus  ;  the  gospel  entire,  its  moral  transfor- 
mation as  well  as  its  precepts  ;  the  gospel  entire, 
nothing  but  the  gospel,  Christ  all,  and  Christ  in  all. 
**  Except  a  man  be  born  again,  he  cannot  see  the 
kingdom  of  God."  Happy  he,  who,  at  the  foot  of 
the  cross,  like  that  soldier  who  watched  the  crucified 
Lord,  receives  as  his  lot  the  whole  seamless  robe  of 
Christ.  Remember,  it  is  not  a  virtue  and  a  vice  here 
and  there  that  are  in  conflict  in  man.  It  is  two  prin- 
ciples, two  natures,  two  economies,  two  men  ;  and  the 
work  of  Christ  centres  in  making  of  twain  one  new 
man,  reconciling  both  in  one  body  on  the  cross.  Paul 
sums  up  the  whole  matter  in  his  Epistle  to  the  Colos- 
sians.  He  bids  them  indeed  put  away  individual 
vices,  '*  anger,  wrath,  malice,  blasphemy,  filthy  com- 
munications, falsehood  ;  "  but  as  the  root  and  main- 
spring of  all  this  he  says  :  *' Ye  have  put  off  the  old 
man  with  his  deeds,  and  have  put  on  the  new  man, 
which  is  renewed  in  knowledge  after  the  image  of 
Him  that  created  him." 

Oh  ye  who  would  be  pure,  busy  yourselves  no  lon- 
ger with  this  or  that  fault  or  virtue.  Ye  must  be  born 
again.  Turn  from  your  sins  and  your  virtues  to  your- 
selves. Let  your  prayer  be  not  only  '*  Wash  me  from 
mine  iniquity,  and  cleanse  me  from  my  sin  ;  "  but 
'*  Create  in  me  a  clean  heart,  O  God,  and  renew  a 
right  spirit  within  me." 


INFANCY    AND    MANHOOD   IN 
THE  SPHERE   OF  FAITH. 


HEBREWS  XI. 

(23)  By  faith   Moses,   v/hen   he   was   born,   was   hid  three 

months  of  his  parents,  because  they  saw  he  was  a 
proper  child  ;  and  they  were  not  afraid  of  the  king's 
commandment. 

(24)  By  faith  Moses,  when  he  was  come  to  years,  refused  to 

be  called  the  son  of  Pharaoh's  daughter  ; 

(25)  Choosing  rather  to  suffer  affliction  with  the  people  of 

God,  than  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  sin  for  a  season ; 

(26)  Esteeming   the  reproach  of  Christ  greater  riches  than 

the  treasures  in  Egypt  :  for  he  had  respect  unto 
the  recompense  of  the  reward. 

(27)  By  faith  he  forsook  Egypt,  not  fearing  the  wrath  of  the 

king  ;  for  he  endured,  as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible. 

(28)  Through  faith  he  kept  the  passover,  and  the  sprinkling 

of  blood,  lest  he  that  destroyed  the  first-born  should 
touch  them. 

(29)  By  faith  they  passed  through  the   Red  Sea  as  by  dry 

land  :  which  the  Egyptians  assaying  to  do,  were 
drowned. 


'IX. 

INFANCY  AND  MANHOOD  IN  THE  SPHERE 
OF   FAITH. 

In  these  verses  we  are  shown  two  distinct  periods 
in  the  life  of  Moses.  The  first  of  these  is  the  period 
of  his  infancy  and  childhood.  It  covers  the  time  of 
his  unconscious  life,  of  his  helplessness,  when  his 
destiny  is  at  the  disposal  of  others  :  of  his  training, 
when  others  give  the  shape  to  his  thoughts  and  stud- 
ies and  habits.  The  second  period  is  that  of  his  man- 
hood. Here  his  life  is  self-determined.  Here  he 
gives  instead  of  receiving  the  law  ;  teaches,  instead 
of  being  tutored  ;  has  his  own  definite  responsibilities 
and  duties,  for  which  he  alone  is  answerable. 

These  two  periods  of  his  life  are  very  different ;  but 
they  have  one  element  in  common :  they  both  bear 
the  mark  of  faith.  Faith  in  God  is  the  atmosphere 
in  which  the  whole  life  of  Moses  develops.  Faith  is 
the  power  which  determines  the  character  of  his  in- 
fancy no  less  than  of  his  manhood.  The  only  differ- 
ence is  that,  in  the  first  period  of  his  life  he  is  the  sub- 
ject of  his  parents'  faith  ;  that  the  influences  which 
shape  his  childhood  grow  out  of  their  faith,  while,  in 
the  second  period,  he  exercises  that  faith  for  himself, 
and  makes  all  the  choices  and  decisions  of  his  man- 


154  Faith  and  Character. 

hood  under  its  power,  and  does  his  life-work  by  its 
means. 

The  little  babe  appears  in  the  Hebrew  house- 
hold at  a  peculiarly  unfortunate  crisis,  as  it  would 
seem  to  us.  Aaron  and  Miriam  had  grown  up  un- 
molested ;  but  this  child  is  met  by  an  edict  of  Phar- 
aoh commanding  his  destruction.  The  child  was 
peculiarly  beautiful :  traditions  of  his  beauty  are 
found  in  ancient  records.  Stephen,  in  his  review  of 
the  history  of  the  Jewish  people  in  the  seventh  chap- 
ter of  Acts,  speaks  of  him  as  ''  beautiful  unto  God," 
or,  as  we  should  say,  ''  divinely  beautiful."  The  very 
beauty  of  the  child  was,  to  the  mother,  a  token  of  di- 
vine approval,  and  a  sign  that  God  had  some  special 
design  concerning  him  ;  and  this,  not  from  any  pecu- 
liar revelation  made  before  his  birth,  nor  from  faith 
in  the  patriarchal  promises,  but  from  her  natural  love 
for  her  child — that  feeling  which  is  so  quick  to  rise 
in  a  mother's  heart  as  she  bends  over  the  cradle  of  a 
son,  that  he  is  destined  for  some  great  work  in  the 
world.  It  was  not  here  that  her  faith  began  to  work. 
Even  nature  teaches  parents  that  they  owe  a  duty  to 
their  offspring  ;  and  this  sense  of  duty  develops  along 
with  the  parent's  knowledge  of  God.  In  the  case  of 
Moses,  both  these  influences  combined  to  make  them 
resist  the  command  of  Pharaoh.  It  was  a  dangerous 
thing  to  refuse  or  to  attempt  to  evade  the  command 
of  an  Eastern  despot ;  but  the  law  of  nature  and  the 
law  of  God  alike  constrained  this  father  and  mother 
to  preserve  their  child's  life  at  any  hazard.  Hence, 
the  bulrush  ark  among  the  reeds,  and  the  watching 


Infancy  and  Manhood  in  Sphere  of  Faith.     1 5  5 

sister.  And  the  hiding  of  the  child  is  praised  in  the 
text  as  an  act  of  faith,  because  the  parents'  faith  was 
manifested  in  their  not  obeying  the  tyrant's  com- 
mandment ;  but  in  fulfilling,  without  fear  of  man, 
all  that  was  required  by  that  parental  love  which 
God  approved.  It  was  manifested  by  the  means 
adopted  by  the  mother  when  she  could  no  longer 
hide  Moses  in  her  cottage.  She  committed  him  to 
the  Nile,  in  faith  that  he  would  be  cared  for. 

Thus  Moses  was,  if  I  may  so  speak,  launched  into 
life  by  the  hand  of  faith  ;  and  it  can  hardly  be  doubted 
that  the  mother's  faith,  however  rudimentary,  left  its 
impress  on  the  boy.  His  very  name,  given  by  the 
Egyptian  princess,  recalled  the  strange  history  of  his 
infancy  ;  and  who  can  say  that  his  mother,  receiving 
him  back  into  her  arms  as  a  gift  from  God,  and  nurs- 
ing him  in  Pharaoh's  palace,  did  not  make  his  dawn- 
ing consciousness  acquainted  with  the  God  who  had 
saved  him  from  the  king  and  from  the  river  ? 

We  know  almost  nothing  of  any  influences  going 
to  keep  alive  in  Moses  the  knowledge  and  the  fear 
of  God  during  the  years  of  his  childhood.  We  know 
that  he  was  brought  up  under  circumstances  which 
would  seem  likely  to  extinguish  in  him  the  faith  of 
his  fathers  ;  and  he  received,  as  the  adopted  son  of  the 
royal  house,  a  thoroughly  Egyptian  training.  He  was 
learned  in  all  the  learning  of  the  Eg}^ptians.  He  was 
taught  not  only  by  sages,  but  by  priests.  He  was 
trained  not  only  in  science,  but  in  the  Egyptian  idol- 
atry and  superstition. 

It  is  all  the  more  surprising  and  gratifying,  there- 


IS6  Faith  and  Character. 

fore,  as  we  enter  upon  the  second  stage  of  Moses' 
history,  to  find  in  him  a  clearly  developed  faith  in 
God,  and  a  strong  national  feeling.  The  life  which 
Was  begun  in  the  faith  of  the  parents,  develops  the 
same  faith  as  its  own  master  impulse.  The  text  very 
clearly  states  that  the  principle  of  Moses'  choices,  the 
rule  of  his  life,  the  secret  of  his  endurance,  the  rea- 
son for  the  high  place  he  holds  in  history,  was  faith 
in  God.  The  point  I  wish  to  emphasize  is,  that  the 
two  parts  of  this  life  are  made  one  by  this  princi- 
ple of  faith.  That  its  second  stage,  with  its  solemn 
responsibilities,  its  wonderful  works,  its  honors  and 
achievements,  was  a  natural  outgrowth  from  the  first 
stage  in  which  parental  faith  committed  him  to  God. 
You  observe,  in  the  first  place,  that  the  life  thus 
committed  to  God  by  the  parents  was  continuously 
under  God's  direction.  It  is  very  easy  to  see  this 
now,  looking  back  from  this  distance,  and  seeing  the 
life  in  its  whole  course.  The  circumstances  of  Moses' 
childhood,  indeed,  would  seem  at  first  to  contradict 
this  view.  It  would  seem  a  strange  and  hazardous 
thing  to  throw  a  child,  whom  God  was  preparing  to 
lead  His  people  out  of  the  civilization  and  idolatry  of 
Egypt,  into  the  very  place  where  he  would  be  most 
likely  to  become  attached  to  both  the  civil  institu- 
tions and  the  religion  of  Egypt ;  to  throw  him  there, 
too,  at  an  age  when  he  was  most  susceptible  to  their 
impressions.  It  would  seem  a  dangerous  experiment 
to  rear  the  man  who  was  to  be  the  leader  and  confi- 
dential adviser  and  the  associate  of  a  nation  of  slaves, 
the  man  who  was  to  work  out  his  mission  amid  forty 


Infancy  and  Manhood  in  Sphere  of  Faith.    1 57 

years  of  toil  and  hardship  and  desert  life,  in  the  luxu- 
rious atmosphere  of  an  Egyptian  palace  ;  in  the  so- 
ciety of  the  learned  and  cultured,  and  with  that  abun- 
dant leisure  which  the  true  student  demands.     And 
yet  God  was  wiser  than  men.     If  He  found  it  neces- 
sary to  throw  Moses  into  such  temptations  He  could 
supply  corresponding  safeguards.     What  these  were, 
I   have   already  said  we   do  not  know.     We  merely 
know  that  at  the  end  of  this  period  he  comes  before 
us  as  a  man,  with  a  firm  faith  in  God,  with  a  deep  en- 
thusiasm for  his  people,  and  with  a  tender  sympathy 
for  their  wrongs.     And  while  God  has  kept  his  heart 
from  becoming  estranged  from  his  faith  and  from  his 
nation.  He  has  also  put  him  in  possession  of  all  that 
Egypt  has  had  to  give  him  of  knowledge  and  culture. 
Egypt  was   training   her   own    avenger   in    her  own 
schools.     The  Pharaohs  themselves  were  furnishing 
every  appliance  which  their  wealth  and  their  wisdom 
could  command,  to  the  man  who  was  going  to  take 
more  than  half  a  million  of  their  useful  serv'ants,  at 
one  stroke,  out  of  their  brickyards  and  quarries  and 
from  the  scaffoldings  of  their  new  palaces.      It  is  an 
instance  of  the  providence  of  God  which  grows  upon 
one,  the  more  he  studies  it :  that  God  should  have 
made   His  own  enemies  train   His  serv'ant,  and  that 
through  so  many  years. 

Then,  as  we  pass  on,  we  see  the  life  of  Moses  still 
directed  by  God.  He  came  to  manhood  a  genuine 
Hebrew,  though  reared  in  an  Egyptian  palace.  He 
went  out  among  his  enslaved  people.  He  saw  how 
they  were  oppressed.     His  Hebrew  heart  waxed  hot 


158  Faith  and  Character, 

within  him  as  he  beheld  a  taskmaster  smiting  one  of 
his  brethren,  and,  in  his  anger,  he  smote  the  oppressor 
and  killed  him.  That  act  was  his  own  ;  the  act  of  his 
own  fiery  zeal.  It  was  not  God's  bidding  ;  and  Moses 
showed  in  this  that  he  could  not  yet  rule  himself,  and 
was  not  therefore  yet  fit  for  leadership  ;  and  so  God 
took  him  in  hand  at  once.  He  must  go  away  where 
that  fiery  spirit  could  be  tamed  ;  and  the  rocky  soli- 
tude of  Horeb  was  a  good  glace,  and  keeping  sheep  a 
good  occupation  to  foster  thoughtfulness  and  self- 
communion.  A  great  change  it  was  from  his  honors 
and  congenial  studies  to  the  dull  routine  of  a  shep- 
herd's life  among  the  Arabian  mountains  ;  and  ^Moses 
was  only  human,  and  he  was  lonely  and  sad  some- 
times. You  catch  a  glimpse  of  this  in  the  name  which 
he  gave  his  first-born  son,  **  Gershom,"  banishment, 
*'  for  I  have  been  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land."  Then, 
at  last,  when  the  time  was  ripe,  God  gave  him  his 
commission.  It  had  taken  a  long  time,  forty  years 
of  solitude,  but  the  work  was  thoroughly  done,  and 
he  should  never  know  solitude  any  more — no,  not 
even  its  sweet  refreshment,  until  forty  years  later, 
w^hen  he  should  have  a  few  blessed  hours  of  the  old 
mountain  stillness  alone  with  God  ere  God  took  him.' 
Like  many  another  great  man,  when  the  time  for  his 
great  life-work  had  come,  he  found  his  mission  in  the 
track  of  his  daily  task.  God  spoke  to  him  out  of  one 
of   the  common  thorn-bushes  in  the  mountain   pas- 

'  It  will  be  remembered  how  beautifully  this  thought  is  treated  by 
Ruskin  in  his  chapter  on  "  the  mountain  glory."  **  Modern  Paint- 
ers," vol.  V. 


Infancy  and  Manhood  in  Sphere  of  Faith.    1 59 

tures,  and  sent  him  back  to  Egypt  and  to  Pharaoh  to 
deliver  his  people.  I  need  not  go  on  with  the  story. 
From  this  time,  until  the  hour  when,  amid  the  sound 
of  a  nation's  weeping,  he  went  up  Nebo  to  die,  you 
all  know  Moses  as  God's  chosen  agent,  carrying  out 
God's  will,  *' faithful  in  all  his  house  as  a  servant." 
The  life,  I  repeat,  was  continuously  under  God's  di- 
rection. The  same  hand  which  took  up  the  infant  in 
the  bulrush  ark,  and  led  him  first  into  the  palace  of 
the  Pharaohs,  and  then  into  the  solitudes  of  the  Ara- 
bian desert,  guided  him  through  his  last  forty,  care- 
burdened  years,  and  took  him  at  last  to  Himself,  and 
made  his  grave  with  His  own  hands,  no  man  knoweth 
where  to  this  day. 

And  all  this,  I  repeat,  grew  out  of  the  original  act 
of  his  parents  in  committing  him  to  God.  That  act 
was  an  act  of  faith,  and,  as  a  consequence,  Moses'  life 
was  a  life  of  faith.  Faith  spans  this  life  of  the  He- 
brew lawgiver,  from  the  bulrush  ark  to  Pisgah. 

Let  us  look  at  some  illustrations  of  this  fact,  as 
they  are  specified  in  the  text.  By  faith  he  refused  to 
be  called  the  son  of  Pharaoh's  daughter. 

I  have  already  spoken  of  the  probability  that  Moses, 
thrown  at  so  early  an  age  into  the  Egyptian  court, 
and  graced  with  all  the  advantages  which  royal  favor 
could  give,  would  become  attached  to  his  benefactors 
and  to  his  princely  life.  He  would  have  been  more 
than  human  if  this  had  not  been  the  case.  Then,  con- 
sider his  prospects  :  wealth,  power,  leisure  for  study, 
association  with  the  learned,  honors  of  all  kinds.  It 
would  have  been  strange,  indeed,  if  these  had  not 


i6o  Faith  and  Character. 

presented  a  strong  attraction  for  him.  Again,  look 
at  the  alternative  as  between  this  princely  life  and 
the  life  among  a  degraded,  subject  race,  ignorant  of 
even  ordinary  decencies  ;  a  lot  which  would  make  his 
former  patrons  his  enemies,  and  which  would  insure 
him  toil,  vexation,  and  pain,  for  the  whole  remainder 
of  his  life.  Every  day,  almost,  we  see  fanatics  doing 
strange  things  and  things  hurtful  to  themselves.  But 
Moses  was  not  a  fanatic.  He  was  a  Avise  man,  as 
worldly  men  count  wisdom.  He  knew,  as  well  as 
any  sage  in  Egypt,  how  chimerical,  how  hopeless, 
from  the  stand-point  of  worldly  prudence,  such  a 
movement  as  the  migration  of  the  Israelites  was.  If 
he  saw  the  matter  from  God's  point  of  view,  he  was 
also  quite  competent  to  see  it  from  Pharaoh's. 

And  yet  he  refused  to  be  called  the  son  of  Pharaoh's 
daughter.  He  renounced  his  royal  adoption,  with 
all  its  honors  and  privileges,  and  took  up  wdth  his 
nation's  hard  lot.  On  any  worldly  basis  of  reasoning 
it  is  very  hard  to  account  for  this  choice.  Scripture 
makes  no  difficulty  in  accounting  for  it.  Our  writer 
here  says  that  the  same  faith  w^iich  made  his  parents 
hide  his  infancy,  moved  his  manhood  to  choose  the 
harder  instead  of  the  easier  lot  ;  affliction  with  the 
people  of  God,  rather  than  the  pleasures  of  sin  ;  the 
reproach  of  Christ  rather  than  the  treasures  of  Egypt  ; 
the  unseen  divine  recompense,  rather  than  the  honors 
of  royalty.  Moreover,  you  perceive  that  this  same 
faith  gave  him  an  insight  into  the  sin  which  underlay 
much  of  the  pleasure  by  which  he  was  surrounded, 
and  in  which  he  would  naturally  have  participated. 


Infancy  and  Manhood  in  Sphere  of  Faith.    i6i 

Youth  is  generally  wont  to  accept  the  pleasures  which 
offer  themselves,  without  much  thought  as  to  their 
tendency  or  their  bearing  upon  character.  Faith,  it 
would  seem,  gave  Moses  a  right  discernment  in  this 
matter.  Then,  too,  youth  naturally  thinks  that  its 
pleasure  will  last.  Its  life  seems  too  bright  ever  to 
fade.  This  same  discernment  of  faith  enabled  Moses 
to  see  that  pleasure,  and  especially  sinful  pleasure,  is 
short  lived.  Again,  it  is  not  natural  for  men  to  count 
reproach  as  riches.  The  natural  mind  does  not  at  all 
accept  nor  understand  the  Saviour's  words,  ''  Blessed 
are  ye,  when  men  shall  revile  you,  and  persecute  you, 
and  shall  say  all  manner  of  evil  against  you  falsely,  for 
my  sake. "  It  is  a  clear  and  marked  token  of  the  power 
of  faith  in  Moses,  that  he  esteemed  the  reproach  of 
Christ  greater  riches  than  all  the  treasures  of  Egypt. 
Again,  you  observe,  that  faith  v/rought  courage  in 
Moses.  As  we  are  told  that  his  parents,  through 
their  faith,  were  not  afraid  of  the  king's  command- 
ment, so  we  read  that  Moses  forsook  Egypt,  not  fear- 
ing the  wrath  of  the  king.  There  were  two  ways  in 
which  this  wrath  might  work  harm.  If  he  were  de- 
tected in  his  flight,  he  might  suffer  personally,  be  de- 
graded from  his  honors,  and  perhaps  pay  the  penalty 
of  his  life.  If  he  were  not  detected,  Pharaoh  might 
revenge  himself  upon  the  helpless  people  whose 
cause  Moses  had  made  his  own,  and  thus  strike  him 
through  them.  The  contemplation  of  both  these 
dangers  required  faith  ;  and  Moses  displayed  it,  both 
in  commending  himself  and  his  oppressed  people  to 
God's  care  and  protection. 


1 62  Faith  and  Character, 

'*He  endured,  as  seeing  the  invisible."  In  those 
words  the  very  essence  of  faith  is  stated.  '^  Faith,"  as 
the  writer  of  this  very  epistle  puts  it, ''  is  the  evidence  of 
things  not  seen  ;  "  and  yet  I  cannot  help  thinking  that 
a  reference  lay  in  the  author's  mind  to  the  contrast  of 
Moses'  simple  faith  in  the  one  invisible  God,  with  the 
Egyptians'  belief  in  their  three  orders  of  gods,  and 
their  worship  of  inanimate  nature.  From  infancy 
Moses'  eyes  had  been  familiar  with  the  sacred  bulls 
and  goats  and  cats  ;  with  the  stone  images  of  hawk  or 
lion-headed  deities  ;  with  the  worship  of  the  sun,  and 
with  the  reverence  paid  to  the  mummied  crocodile  ; 
and  yet  out  of  all  this  gross  idolatry  he  had  come 
with  a  faith  in  the  one  invisible  Jehovah  ;  a  practical 
faith,  too,  as  in  one  to  whom  he  could  appeal  with 
confidence  in  the  great  crisis  of  his  life  ;  from  whom 
he  was  to  receive  the  law  of  his  life,  and  whose  unseen, 
future  recompense  he  preferred  to  all  the  honors  of 
this  world. 

And  you  observe,  farther,  that  this  faith  was  vindi- 
cated in  the  position,  the  character,  and  the  power  of 
Moses,  No  man  ever  held  a  position  involving  more 
labor  and  care  and  responsibility,  and  for  that  very 
reason,  none  but  a  man  of  faith  could  ever  have  held 
it  successfully.  The  burden  was  too  heavy  for  any 
man's  shoulders  ;  and  the  secret  of  Moses'  successful 
administration  of  forty  years  lay  simply  in  the  faith 
which  threw  the  burden  upon  God.  However  great 
may  have  been  his  natural  talents,  however  extensive 
his  learning,  he  occupies  his  place  in  history,  not  be- 
cause of  these,  but  because  he  was  a  man  of  faith. 


Infancy  and  ManJiood  ill  Sphere  of  Faith.    163 

The  wonderful  deeds  with  which  his  name  is  associ- 
ated, like  the  passing  of  the  Red  Sea,  do  not  suggest 
him  so  much  as  they  do  God.  "■  By  faith  they  passed 
through  the  Red  Sea  as  by  dry  land."  When  God 
gave  back  to  Moses  his  shepherd's  staff  on  Horeb,  the 
rod  had  become  a  wonder-working  instrument.  In 
Moses'  hand  it  had  been  but  a  stick.  Having  passed 
through  God's  hand  it  took  on  God's  power  ;  and  so 
long  as  faith  maintained  the  connection  between  God 
and  his  serv^ant,  so  long  that  rod  had  power  over  the 
pestilence,  the  hail  and  the  fire,  the  sea,  and  the  rock. 

Faith,  then,  was  the  basis  of  this  life,  both  in  its  un- 
conscious and  in  its  self-determining  stage  ;  and  the 
faith  of  the  first  stage  is  carried  on  into  the  second, 
and  gives  it  its  character  and  its  success. 

And  now  I  ask  if  this  truth  belongs  only  to  remote 
ages  and  characters  like  those  of  Moses  ?  Is  it  not 
equally  a  truth  of  the  development  of  the  Christian 
child  into  the  Christian  man  or  woman  ? 

Childhood  and  maturity  can  no  more  be  in  two 
pieces  than  the  roots  and  the  trunk  of  a  tree.  You 
might  just  as  well  expect  the  roots  of  an  oak  to  begin 
to  develop  into  a  strawberry  vine  the  moment  the 
shoot  came  above  ground,  as  to  expect  that  maturity 
is  going  to  develop  something  quite  distinct  from  the 
character  and  influences  of  the  childhood.  The  char- 
acter of  the  underground  stage  of  the  life — to  carry 
out  the  figure — while  the  child  is  yet  hidden  away  in 
the  bosom  of  the  household,  will  show  itself  when  the 
man  and  the  woman  emerge  into  society  as  active 
forces.     "  Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should  go, 


1 64  Faith  and  Character. 

and  when  he  is  old  he  will  not  depart  from  it."  We 
say  it  is  only  a  proverb :  granted  ;  but  need  it  be  any 
less  a  truth  for  that  reason  ?  Is  it  not  a  truth  which 
we  recognize  everywhere  else  ?  Do  we  expect  a  tree 
to  grow  straight  which  we  suffer  as  a  twig  to  grow 
crooked  ?  So  it  will  be  true  that  if  faith  is  the  mas- 
ter motive  of  the  parents'  life,  if  faith  controls  the 
earlier  training  of  the  child,  if  faith  inspires  the  pa- 
rental longings  and  the  parental  discipline,  faith  will 
perpetuate  itself  in  the  maturer  life  of  the  son  or 
daughter. 

Faith  in  God  I  mean,  not  faith  in  human  nature. 
The  human  nature  of  men  and  women  does  not  en- 
courage our  faith  in  it.  Why  then  should  we  think 
Solomon  antiquated  w^hen  he  says:  "foolishness  is 
bound  in  the  heart  of  a  child  ?"  Do  not  let  us  be  de- 
ceived by  any  of  the  modern  sentimentalism  about 
the  child  being  suffered  to  "unfold  his  own  individu- 
ality without  hindrance,  as  if  childhood  were  of  itself 
so  beautiful  and  perfect  a  thing  that  to  meddle  with 
it  were  to  mar  it.  Moses  was  beautiful  unto  God, 
divinely  fair,  and  in  his  beauty  and  other  natural  gifts 
lay  the  special  reason  for  his  training  for  God's  uses 
and  by  God's  liand.  The  more  promise  our  children 
reveal,  the  stronger  individuality,  the  greater  reason 
that  God's  hand  should  be  upon  that  life  from  the 
very  beginning.  Our  children  must  not  be  left  to 
think  their  own  thoughts,  to  develop  their  own  prin- 
ciples, to  mould  their  own  conscience,  without  any 
bridle  upon  their  natural  impidses.  **This  kind  of 
nurture  assumes,  that  human  children  will  grow  up, 


Infancy  and  Manhood  in  Sphere  of  Faith.    165 

left  to  themselves,  into  the  most  genuine,  highest 
style  of  human  character  ;  whereas  .  .  .  what  they 
most  especially  want  is  ...  to  be  preoccupied  with 
holy  principles  and  laws  ;  to  have  prejudices  instilled 
that  are  holy  prejudices  ;  and  so  to  be  tempered  be- 
forehand by  moderating  and  guiding  influences,  such 
as  their  perilous  freedom  and  hereditary  damage  re- 
quire." ' 

And  the  Christian  faith  of  parents  embraces  not 
only  God  and  Christ,  but  the  church  of  Christ.  If 
parental  training  includes  Christ,  it  cannot  exclude 
the  church,  for  Christ  and  his  church  go  together. 
Parents  recognize  society  as  one  of  the  primary  forces 
in  the  training  of  their  children  ;  and  Christian  pa- 
rents can  surely  desire  for  their  children  no  less 
than  that  their  society  should  be  Christian  ;  that  the 
social  influences,  which  go  so  far  to  mould  them, 
should  be  sanctified.  For  this  reason  the  Christian 
economy  associates  the  child's  infancy  with  the  church 
of  the  living  God,  as  the  Jewish  economy  did.  It  as- 
sumes that  the  child  of  a  Christian  believer  is  born  a 
member  of  a  Christian  society.  It  guards  the  social 
influences  of  its  very  infancy,  and  there  in  the  church, 
where  the  parents'  faith  is  professed,  where  the  pa- 
rents' sanctified  energy  is  marshalled  for  Christian  ser- 
vice, where  the  parents'  Christian  culture  is  so  largely 
given,  where  the  parents  find  so  many  of  their  best 
and  purest  associations,  there  the  lot  of  the  child  is 
intended  to  be  cast,  and  its  society  and  its  privileges 

^Dr.  Horace  Bushnell,  *'  Christian  Nurture." 


1 66  Faith  a?id  Character, 

are  to  be  offered  to  him  habitually  as  his  birthright. 
And  thus  we  say,  in  our  confession  of  faith:  "The 
visible  church  consists  of  all  those  throughout  the 
world  that  profess  the  true  religion,  together  with 
their  children  ; "  and  again,  ''  Children  born  within 
the  pale  of  the  visible  church,  and  dedicated  to  God 
in  baptism,  are  under  the  inspection  and  government 
of  the  church." 

The  practical  lesson,  therefore,  is  two-fold.  It  is, 
first,  to  parents.  Our  children  come  into  the  world 
to  meet  an  edict  as  cruel  and  destructive  as  was  Pha- 
raoh's. It  is  the  malignant  wdll  of  the  great  enemy  of 
souls,  speaking  through  the  fashion  of  this  world,  and 
decreeing  the  ruin  of  their  souls.  It  is  not  for  us  to 
fear  this  king's  commandment.  We  must  meet  it 
with  faith,  hiding  our  children  in  the  covenant  of  God, 
and  watching  them  with  prayer.  Faith  must  launch 
their  infant  life.  Our  faith  and  our  application  of  it 
to  our  children's  lives  has  everything  to  do  with  their 
future.  Until  they  can  exercise  intelligent  faith  for 
themselves  we  must  bring  to  bear  on  them  the  powers 
and  the  principles  of  the  life  of  faith.  We  all  want 
their  maturer  life  to  be  a  life  of  faith.  Why,  then,  is 
it  so  often  overlooked  that,  to  this  end,  faith  must 
work  in  their  earlier  life  ?  Oh,  it  is  all  wrong  when 
Christian  parents  look  upon  this  first  life  as  some- 
thing which  is  to  have  its  own  bent,  and  is  only  to  be 
transformed  into  something  else  by  a  shock  or  a  crisis, 
by  powerful  preaching  or  revival  by  and  by.  In  ac- 
cepting that  theory  they  are  throwing  away  their  own 
and  the  child's  best  opportunity,  and  are  leaving  to 


Infancy  and  Manhood  in  Sphere  of  Faith.    167 

uncertain  forces,  in  the  future,  that  which  is  very 
largely  in  their  own  hands  in  the  present.  It  is 
true  that  our  children's  hearts  must  be  changed  ;  but 
change  of  heart  is  the  work  of  God's  spirit — an  in- 
ward, secret  work — and  it  is  by  no  means  needful 
that  we  should  know  when  it  takes  place.  Train  up 
your  child  in  the  atmosphere  of  faith  and  prayer,  in 
the  circle  of  Christ's  church  ;  train  him  to  recognize 
and  to  claim  his  birthright  privilege  as  a  member  of 
Christ's  church,  and  he  will  grow  up  sweetly  and  nat- 
urally into  faith  and  love,  and  escape  the  terrible  shock 
by  which  a  mature  life  is  wrenched  from  the  world  and 
given  to  Christ. 

And  the  appeal  is,  secondly,  to  the  children  and 
youth.  Dear  children,  I  speak  to  you  as  children 
of  the  church.  You  early  learned  the  story  of  this 
Moses,  the  man  of  God,  and  early  learned  to  ad- 
mire and  to  revere  him.  Remember,  the  secret  of 
his  greatness  was  his  goodness  ;  and  the  secret  of 
his  goodness  was  faith  in  God  ;  and  this  faith  did  not 
come  first  in  his  latter  years,  but  began  when  he  was 
a  child,  and  kept  him  from  the  sin  which  was  all 
,  round  him.  And  it  was  this  same  faith  which  made 
Pharaoh  tremble,  which  brought  darkness  and  fire  on 
the  land  of  Egypt,  which  divided  the  Red  Sea,  which 
took  him  up  into  the  mountain  to  see  God's  glory,  and 
sent  him  down  with  his  face  shining  with  the  light 
of  heaven,  which  made  a  whole  great  nation  lean 
on  him  and  trust  him  as  a  father  and  friend,  and  fill 
the  desert  with  the  sound  of  their  weeping  when  he 
went  up  to  die.     Children,  if  you  expect  to  be  good 


1 68  Faith  and  Character. 

and  useful  men  and  women,  you  must  begin  the  work 
here  and  now.  Do  not  think  that  your  manhood  and 
womanhood  will  be  something  good,  and  pure,  and 
true,  if  your  childhood  and  youth  are  not  so.  Do  not 
think  that  faith  in  God  and  in  Christ  will  come  into 
your  later  life  as  a  matter  of  course,  even  though  you 
give  them  no  place  in  your  earlier  life.  God  calls 
you  now.  *'  Remember  now  thy  Creator  in  the  days 
of  thy  youth."  Christ  calls  even  to  the  youngest  of 
you  :  ''  Suffer  the  little  children  to  come  unto  me." 
And  your  parents  have  prayed  for  you.  They  gave 
you  to  God  in  baptism.  You  are  to-day  within  Christ's 
church,  and  Christ  and  the  holy  angels  and  the  church 
are  waiting  and  longing  to  have  you  confess  your 
Lord  and  Master,  and  to  sit  down  with  the  church  at 
His  table. 

Our  standards  say,  concerning  the  children  of  be- 
lievers, 'Svhen  they  come  to  years  of  discretion,  if 
they  be  free  from  scandal,  appear  sober  and  steady, 
and  to  have  sufficient  knowledge  to  discern  the  Lord's 
body,  they  ought  to  be  informed  it  is  their  duty  and 
their  privilege  to  come  to  the  Lord's  Supper."  It 
seems  to  me  that  this  provision  falls  in  so  beautifully 
with  the  gospel  idea  of  the  family  of  God,  and  is  so 
beautifully  illustrated  in  our  family  life.  It  is  a  little 
epoch  in  the  family  history,  when  the  babe  gets  old 
enough  to  come  to  the  family  table.  You  know  what 
a  rejoicing  there  is,  when  the  little  one  is  first  perched 
in  its  high  chair  at  the  mother's  side.  And  yet  we 
do  not  count  it  a  strange  or  an  unnatural  thing  that 
the  child  should  appear  at  the  family  board.     We  are 


Infancy  and  Ma^ihood  in  Sphere  of  Faith,    169 

not  tempted  to  keep  it  away  year  after  year  until  we 
are  quite  sure  it  will  behave  itself.  Oh,  parents, 
Christian  parents,  is  our  Father's  house  any  less  the 
children's  house  than  ours  ?  Is  the  bread  of  the 
Father's  table  not  the  children's  bread  ?  and  shall  we 
any  the  less  rejoice  to  see  them  sitting  with  us  at 
Christ's  board  than  at  our  own  ?  God  help  us  to  set 
the  seal  of  faith  on  their  earlier  years,  that  their  life 
may  be  crowned  at  last  with  God's  own  recompense 
of  reward. 
8 


THE  DIVINE  LAAV  OF  EDUCA- 
TION. 


DEUTERONOMY    XXXII. 

(lo)  He  found  him  in  a  desert  land,  and  in  the  waste  howHng 

wilderness  ;  He  led  him  about,  He  instructed  him.  He 

kept  him  as  the  apple  of  his  eye. 
(ii)  As   an   eagle  stirreth   up  her  nest,  fluttereth  over  her 

young,  spreadeth  abroad  her  wings,  taketh  them,  bear- 

eth  them  on  her  wings  ; 
(i2)  So   the   Lord  alone   did   lead   him,    and  there  was  no 

strange  god  with  him. 


X. 

THE   DIVINE   LAW  OF   EDUCATION. 

Most  of  you  have  seen  those  little  toys,  in  the 
end  of  which  is  inserted  a  minute  magnifying-glass, 
through  which  one  may  distinctly  see  the  picture  of 
some  familiar  scene.  The  grandest  landscape  is  thus 
brought  by  the  photographer  within  a  space  not 
much  larger  than  a  pin-head. 

So  God  constantly  reproduces  the  great  outlines  of 
natural  life  in  individual  experience.  Nations  and 
men  pass  through  the  same  stages.  The  great  fea- 
tures of  the  process  by  which  God  develops  them  are 
the  same  ;  and  especially  is  this  true  of  a  nation  like 
Israel,  whose  development  was  pre-eminently  moral 
and  religious.  The  Christian,  who  reviews  intelli- 
gently his  own  life,  will  find  himself  retracing  the 
outlines  of  the  chosen  people's  history.  Bondage,  de- 
liverance by  divine  power,  guidance,  discipline,  lapses 
into  idolatry,  frettings  and  murmurs,  chastisements, 
entrance  upon  a  promised  land,  fighting  with  its  old 
tenants,  growing  compactness  and  stability,  all  these 
and  many  more,  he  will  find  reproduced  in  his  own 
spiritual  record. 

Our  text  contains  a  lesson  of  this  character.  It 
forms   a  part  of  that  memorable  farewell  address  of 


1/4  Faith  and  Character. 

Moses  to  the  children  of  Israel,  ere  he  went  up  the 
mountain  to  die.  In  themselves,  the  words  are 
merely  a  review  of  God's  mercies  to  His  people 
throughout  the  most  critical  period  of  their  history : 
yet,  with  New  Testament  light  shining  through  them, 
they  mean  to  us  something  more.  Whether  they  were 
intended  to  do  so  or  not,  these  verses  wonderfully  il- 
lustrate and  foreshadow  certain  great  features  of  God's 
process  in  educating  a  Christian  in  the  divine  life. 

And  first,  "  He  found  Israel  in  a  desert  land,  and  in 
the  waste  howling  wilderness. "  Moses  does  not  mean 
to  imply  by  this  that  God's  care  for  His  people  began 
in  the  Arabian  desert.  The  description  is  figurative, 
and  covers  their  residence  in  Egypt,  where  their  de- 
liverance began.  This  was,  indeed,  as  a  waste  of 
howling  beasts.  What  condition  can  be  imagined 
more  pitiable  than  that  of  a  nation  of  slaves  under  an 
Oriental  tyrant  ?  It  was  not  only  that  their  time  and 
strength  were  not  their  own  ;  not  only  that  their  chil- 
dren were  murdered  at  the  tyrant's  whim  ;  not  only 
that  the  lash  of  the  taskmaster  added  terror  to  their 
intolerable  labors  ;  those  things,  bad  as  they  are,  are 
not  the  worst  of  slavery.  Worse  than  all  was  the  im- 
bruting  power  of  bondage  ;  the  degradation  of  man- 
hood ;  the  crushing  out  of  aspiration  ;  the  making 
them  satisfied  with  the  pleasures  of  the  beast,  and 
ignorant  of  any  higher  pleasures.  That  is  a  truth 
which  ought  to  be  very  plain  to  us.  That  was  just 
the  result  which  our  national  sin  brought  to  pass  ; 
and  tlie  brute  bulk  which  we  nurtured  for  so  many 
years,  is  on  our  hands  to-day,  complicating  our  politics, 


The  Divine  Law  of  Educatioft,  175 

and  tormenting  us  with  its  ignorance  and  helpless- 
ness. 

In  this  condition  then,  this  wilderness  of  tyranny, 
ignorance,  superstition,  bereft  of  comfort  and  of  hope, 
God  found  this  rabble  of  slaves.  With  this  unpromis- 
ing material  He  undertook  to  make  a  nation  and  a 
new  civilization.  And  truly  it  seems  as  if  God  de- 
lighted in  taking  the  worst  possible  subjects  in  which 
to  display  His  saving  power.  It  is  the  truth  set  forth 
in  the  prophet's  vision— the  fair  mitre  and  the  clean 
robe  put  upon  the  arraigned  prisoner,  whom  God 
Himself  calls  ''a  brand  plucked  from  the  fire."  As 
between  two  men,  we  not  unfrequently  see  God 
choose  the  most  unpromising.  Take,  for  example, 
the  father  of  this  very  nation,  Jacob.  God's  choice 
lights  on  him  rather  than  on  Esau  ;  on  the  younger, 
rather  than  on  the  elder.  And  yet  Esau  really  ap- 
peals to  us  as  the  nobler  character  of  the  two.  He  is 
the  more  frank,  manly,  generous  nature  ;  Jacob  is  full 
of  low  cunning  ;  the  characteristics  which  to-day  are 
most  offensive  in  his  race,  are  sharply  developed  in 
him  ;  and  yet  Esau  goes  away  to  Edom  and  drops  out 
of  history,  while  Jacob  wins  the  name  and  the  power 
of  a  prince  of  God,  and  will  be  a  leading  factor  in  the 
history  of  the  human  race  to  the  end  of  time.  Why 
go  to  the  slave  huts  for  a  new  nation,  when  palace  and 
temple  and  obelisk,  hieroglyph  and  parchment  told 
of  a  civilization  ready  made,  of  a  cultured  race,  and 
of  a  venerable  wisdom  ?  It  is  not  for  us  to  say.  We 
know  the  fact.  And,  what  is  better,  we  see  the  fact 
repeated  in  the  economy  of  Christ.     He  comes,  pro- 


jy6  Faith  and  Character, 

claiming  that  his  work  lies  in  the  desert ;  that  his 
sphere  is  down  among  the  poor  and  sorrowful ;  that 
his  call  is  to  sinners  and  not  to  the  righteous  ;  that 
his  search  is  for  the  lost ;  that  he,  in  short,  will  take 
up  what  every  one  else  casts  aside  ;  what  the  wisdom 
of  the  world  despises  ;  what  the  sanctity  of  the  world 
refuses  to  touch  ;  what  the  charity  of  the  world  ex- 
cludes ;  what  the  world's  refinement  shrinks  from  ; 
that  he  will  seek  in  its  deserts,  that  he  will  find,  that 
he  will  choose  and  justify  and  glorify,  and  make  to 
sit  with  him  in  heavenly  places.  And  let  us  not  de- 
ceive ourselves  by  thinking  that  a  cultivated  and 
moral  man  who  becomes  a  subject  of  Christ's  saving 
grace,  is  any  exception  to  this  rule  ;  that  when  Christ 
seeks  and  finds  him,  he  finds  him  anywhere  but  in  a 
waste  howling  wilderness.  The  wilderness  is  w^here 
Christ  is  not.  Men  may  live  there  and  make  gardens 
in  the  sand,  and  dig  wells ;  but  the  tree  of  life  does 
not  grow  there,  and  the  deepest  wells  do  not  yield 
living  water.  And  when  a  man  once  reaches  a  clear 
consciousness  of  what  sin  is,  what  divine  love  is,  what 
a  sinner  is,  the  most  cultured  man  will  be  constrained 
to  confess  that  Christ  found  him  as  a  dweller  in  the 
wilderness.  It  is  noteworthy  how  that  sentiment 
breaks  up  at  intervals  through  Paul's  close  logic  and 
impassioned  eloquence.  So  far  from  feeling  that  he 
has  conferred  a  favor  on  the  gospel  by  coming  to  its 
aid  with  all  his  wealth  of  learning  and  intellect,  he 
regards  it  as  one  of  the  greatest  of  marv^els  that 
Christ  should  give  him  a  place  among  its  preachers. 
He  goes  back  with  a  groan  to  the  old  day?,  and  says, 


The  Divine  Law  of  Education.  177 

*'I  persecuted  the  church."  ''I  scourged  men  and 
women."  *'I  made  them  deny  the  faith."  **  I  am 
not  meet  to  be  an  apostle."  *' Unto  me,  who  am 
less  than  the  least  of  all  saints,  is  this  grace  given, 
that  I  should  preach  among  the  Gentiles  the  un- 
searchable riches  of  Christ."  No,  sin  is  not  the 
difference  between  ignorance  and  culture,  between 
legal  morality  and  crime.  It  is  the  difference  be- 
tween a  subject  and  an  outlaw,  a  servant  of  Satan 
and  a  friend  of  God,  a  desert  and  a  paradise. 

But  having  once  delivered  Israel  from  its  taskmas- 
ters, the  work  was  but  begun.  The  people  had  well- 
nigh  everything  to  learn.  They  knew  little  or  noth- 
ing of  law,  of  religion,  of  self-government,  even  of 
ordinary  decencies.  Look  at  this  rabble,  and  then  at 
God's  ideal  as  it  afterward  came  into  shape  ;  of  a 
nation  with  laws,  arts,  literature,  military  institutions, 
and  religion  overarching  and  penetrating  all,  and 
what  a  task  is  this.  So,  having  found  Israel  in  this 
howling  wilderness,  He  must  needs  instruct  him. 
How  wonderfully  He  did  it,  with  how  much  tact  and 
patience  and  delicacy,  with  how  much  wisdom  and 
forbearance,  we  all  know,  but  it  took  a  long,  long 
time. 

And  so,  to  turn  to  the  Christian  application  of  the 
truth,  no  conception  of  Christian  experience  is  com- 
plete which  omits  this  idea  of  instruction.  I  do  not 
mean  merely  teaching  ;  I  mean  rather  the  result  of 
teaching  ;  what  is  implied  in  the  word  ''  instruction  " 
itself ;  building,  furnishing,  developing  manhood  on 
every  side,  and  in  its  completeness  in  Christ  Jesus. 


178  Faith  and  Character. 

Now,  unquestionably,  this  process  of  instruction 
must  have  a  beginning  ;  and  that  beginning  is  con- 
version. There  was  a  time  when  the  Israelites  passed 
from  Egypt  and  from  Pharaoh's  power  ;  so  there  is  a 
time  when  a  man  receives  a  new  heart,  when  he 
changes  his  allegiance  ;  goes  out  from  the  service  of 
his  old  master,  and  enlists  with  a  new  one.  Some- 
times this  change  involves  a  sudden,  startling  expe- 
rience, sometimes  it  does  not.  There  are  children 
educated  under  such  influences,  as  that  they  expand 
like  a  flower  into  Christian  faith  and  love,  and  can- 
not remember  a  time  when  they  did  not  love  Christ. 
There  are  men  and  women  who  pass  by  a  gradual 
transition  from  darkness  and  sorrow  into  clear-seeing 
faith  and  Christian  peace.  These  are  only  phases  of 
the  one  fact.  There  is  a  starting-point,  a  conver- 
sion, a  passing  from  death  unto  life.  But  no  sane 
man  could  fail  to  see  that  when  Israel  had  passed  out 
of  Egypt,  the  work  was  but  just  begun.  If  merely 
their  oppressors  had  been  destroyed,  and  they  set 
free  and  left  to  themselves,  it  is  quite  certain  that 
they  would  have  brought  themselves  into  a  much 
worse  condition  than  that  in  which  Pharaoh  left 
them.  You  give  a  lad  who  does  not  know  a  hand- 
saw from  a  chisel  a  chest  of  tools,  and  leave  him  en- 
tirely to  himself,  and  he  will  spoil  good  wood,  and 
spoil  his  tools,  and  cut  himself  terribly  besides.  Give 
a  nation  or  a  man  freedom,  and  nothing  else,  and  the 
last  state  will  be  worse  than  the  first.  There  is  no 
such  terrible  slavery  in  the  world  as  liberty  without 
law.     Similarly,  let  a  man  be  converted  and  then  left 


The  Divine  Law  of  Education.  lyg 

to  himself  to  work  out  his  own  salvation  without 
God  working  in  him,  and  he  might  about  as  well 
not  have  been  converted.  That  was  the  reason  why- 
Christ  laid  so  much  stress  on  the  keeping  of  his  dis- 
ciples, and  prayed,  '*  Holy  Father,  keep  through  thine 
own  name  those  whom  thou  hast  given  me.  Sanctify 
them  through  thy  truth."  And  in  gospel  salvation 
the  two  things  go  together — conversion  and  training. 
They  cannot  be  separated.  They  are  one  purpose  of 
God.  When  you  take  a  poor  ragged  boy  out  of  the 
street,  and  promise  that  you  will  be  a  father  and  pro- 
tector to  him  henceforth,  you  do  not  merely  bring  him 
to  your  house,  bid  the  servant  take  him  to  the  kitchen 
and  feed  him,  and  give  yourself  no  farther  thought 
about  him.  Adopting  him  as  your  child  is  not  mere- 
ly taking  him  out  of  the  street.  If  he  is  to  become 
your  son,  he  must  not  remain  a  vagabond.  So,  when 
God  calls  a  man,  He  proposes  to  do  for  and  in  him 
all  that  is  involved  in  making  him  a  son  of  God  ;  not 
only  to  forgive  his  sins,  and  adopt  him  as  His  child, 
but  to  train  him  as  an  heir  of  eternal  glory.  But  it 
takes  time  to  do  this  work. 

Thus,  then,  I  repeat,  salvation,  life  in  Christ's  king- 
dom, begins  in  conversion  ;  but  it  only  begins.  One 
goes  to  school  to  Christ,  but  he  is  not  educated  on 
entering  the  school-room.  One  becomes  a  soldier  of 
Christ,  but  he  is  none  the  less  a  blundering,  awkward 
recruit  after  he  has  enlisted.  That  common  and  most 
pernicious  phrase  ^^ getting  religion^''  carries  with  it  to 
popular  thought  the  idea  of  a  work  done  in  a  mo- 
ment, once  for  all,  leaving  nothing  to  be  done  more. 


l8o  Faith  and  C liar  act  er. 

But  religion  embraces  the  whole  range  of  a  man's 
relations  to  God.  It  is  not  exhausted  in  a  single  ex- 
perience. It  is  commensurate  not  only  with  his  nat- 
ural life,  but  with  his  immortal  life.  He  will  be 
**  experiencing  religion  "  forever,  as  eternity  shall  re- 
veal more  of  God.  And  when  he  enters  Christ's 
kingdom  for  the  first  time,  he  is  a  little  child,  not 
only  in  humility,  but  in  experience  ;  a  babe  in  Christ. 
Did  you  ever  think  how  much  there  is  in  that  phrase, 
*'  a  babe  in  Christ  ? "  Look  at  a  babe  in  a  loving  house- 
hold, compassed  about  with  love,  with  prudence,  with 
care  and  wisdom,  with  all  manner  of  appliances  to 
make  him  strong  and  upright  and  learned,  and  yet 
how  ignorant  of  it  all.  How  much  he  has  to  learn  of 
his  own  privileges,  powers,  and  responsibilities.  How 
little  he  knows  of  the  power  and  preciousness  of  the 
love  which  encircles  him.  Take  the  most  cultivated 
man  into  the  Kingdom  of  God,  and  he  is  a  babe,  ver- 
itably. He  is  in  Christ,  Christ's  love  all  round  him. 
Christ's  power  all  round  him,  Christ's  wisdom  all 
round  him,  and  he  with  but  the  smallest  practical  ex- 
perience of  their  infinite  resources.  He  has  entered 
a  new  realm,  where  unseen  things  are  the  great 
things  ;  where  faith  is  a  power  of  the  first  class  ; 
where  things  are  on  a  larger  scale  and  move  in  vaster 
orbits  ;  and  this  man,  fresh  from  a  realm  of  sight 
and  skepticism  and  selfishness,  is  not  at  home  at 
once.  He  has  everything  to  learn.  He  is  changed, 
in  that  he  has  now  the  spirit  of  a  disciple,  the  humil- 
ity and  simplicity  of  the  asking  child  ;  but  he  under- 
stands now  why  asking,  seeking,  and  knocking  enter 


The  Divine  Laiv  of  Education,  i8i 

so  largely  into  the  life  of  the  heavenly  kingdom. 
He  does  not  at  once  walk  stoutly  and  confidently  by 
faith.  He  has  been  too  long  walking  by  sight.  He 
does  not  readily  obey  without  question.  He  has  been 
too  long  used  to  obey  only  when  he  saw  good  reason 
for  it.  He  does  not  at  once  learn  the  permanency  of 
the  unseen  as  compared  with  the  seen.  He  is  not  a 
perfect  man,  he  is  only  striving  to  become  such.  He 
is  not  out  of  the  reach  of  doubt  or  fear  or  sin,  though 
he  is  vigorously  fighting  them  all.  He  forgets  his 
divine  friend  sometimes,  just  as  did  the  Israelites. 
He  murmurs  sometimes,  just  as  they  did.  He  de- 
spairs, as  they  did.  He  is  tempted  by  his  old  idols, 
as  they  were.  And  the  raising  up  of  the  new  man  in 
him,  the  developing  him  from  a  babe  in  Christ  to  a 
man  strong  in  faith,  sublime  in  unselfishness,  wary 
and  victorious  in  temptation,  ripe  in  charity,  is  a 
work  covering  his  entire  life,  from  the  time  when 
he  puts  his  hand  in  his  Saviour's,  until  the  moment 
when  he  says,  '*  Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  spirit."  All 
through  that  time  he  is  learning,  compacting,  grow- 
ing, through  the  agency  of  teaching,  trial,  defeat  and 
victory,  joy  and  sorrow,  study  of  the  word,  prayer, 
Christian  practice  ;  learning  his  own  weakness,  learn- 
ing Christ's  resources,  learning  Satan's  subtlety  and 
power,  growing  up  into  Christ  his  living  head  in  all 
things. 

One  of  the  stubborn  facts,  therefore,  which  has 
to  be  confronted  in  the  kingdom  of  grace,  is  imper- 
fect Christians.  It  is  a  fact  on  which  the  world,  out- 
side that  kingdom,  either  tlirough  ignorance  or  per- 


1 82  Faith  and  Character, 

verseness,  persists  in  putting  its  own  damaging  con- 
struction ;  and  as  it  never  sees  a  Christian  who  is  per- 
fect, its  sweeping  inference  is  that  the  heavenly  king- 
dom is  no  better  than  the  earthly.  And  this  is  the 
subterfuge  behind  which  hundreds  of  men  are  taking 
refuge  to-day  from  the  claims  of  Christianity.  *'  I  do 
not  believe  in  it.  Look  at  its  professors."  The  truth 
that  the  kingdom  of  grace  is  a  training-school,  and 
not  an  academy  of  saints,  is  one  which  such  men  seem 
incapable  of  grasping  ;  and  yet  I  might  as  reasonably 
go  into  yonder  school-room  to-morrow,  and  denounce 
the  school  and  its  teachers  as  humbugs  because  the 
pupils  were  not  mathematicians  like  Newton,  or  lin- 
guists like  Miiller,  as  to  abuse  Christianity  because 
its  disciples  are  imperfect.  The  truth  is  that  this 
kind  of  judgment,  which  pretends  to  a  very  profound 
moral  insight,  is  really  very  shallow.  Perfection  al- 
ways looks  easy.  From  seeing  a  thing  done  easily, 
certain  people  conclude  that  it  is  easy  to  do.  It 
looks  very  easy  as  that  masterly  musician  runs  his 
fingers  over  the  keys.  It  looks  very  easy  as  the 
painter  lays  the  colors  on  the  canvas  ;  but  only  when 
you  attempt  the  same  thing  do  you  begin  to  realize 
how  many  weary  years  of  drudgery  and  discipline  lie 
behind  that  easy  deftness.  It  requires  not  a  little 
knowledge  to  know  the  difficulties  of  perfection  ;  and 
if  men  had  a  deeper  moral  insight,  if  they  knew  more 
of  the  perfection  of  Christ's  manhood,  they  would 
have  a  deeper  sympathy  with  the  slow  progress  which 
their  earnest  but  erring  brother  makes  toward  it.  I 
remember  one  day  going  into  a  great  bronze  foundry, 


The  Divine  Law  of  Education.  183 

where  some  of  the  masterpieces  of  modern  art  are 
cast ;  and  the  workmen  were  busy  preparing  the 
moulds  for  the  statue  of  an  American  statesman. 
And  it  would  be  hard  to  find  uglier  things  than  those 
moulds,  or  a  process  more  strange  and  bewildering  to 
a  novice.  I  could  not  recognize,  in  those  masses  of 
clay,  the  outlines  of  the  symmetrical  model  I  had  seen 
in  the  exhibition  room.  But  the  master  saw  them. 
Through  all  the  dirt  and  confusion,  through  all  those 
strange  shapes  in  the  clay,  yea,  through  the  tossing 
and  seething  of  the  boiling  mass  in  the  furnace, 
he  saw  that  thing  of  beauty  which  should  greet  the 
eye  when  the  furnace  should  have  been  emptied  and 
the  mould  knocked  away.  So  one  who  himself 
knows  somewhat  of  Christian  discipline  and  of  Chris- 
tian growth,  sees  something  taking  shape  under  and 
through  the  mingled  elements  of  his  brother's  Chris- 
tian career.  There  is  much  clay  and  sand,  much 
boiling  and  stirring,  much  unshapeliness ;  but  he 
knows  that  the  master  is  shaping  a  man  in  Christ 
Jesus  through  it  all ;  that  under  his  touch  the  life 
is  slowly  working  its  way  out  into  light,  symmetry, 
and  clearness  ;  and  that  one  day,  after  long  years 
of  God's  wondrous  patience,  the  fleshly  mould  shall 
drop  away,  and  the  new  creature  in  Christ  Jesus 
stand  forth  perfected  in  the  light  of  heaven,  unto 
praise  and  honor  and  glory  of  Christ  his  redeemer. 

And  young  Christians  need  to  grasp  this  truth; 
One  of  the  greatest  obstacles  in  their  career  is  likely 
to  be  their  comparison  of  themselves  with  older  and 
more  experienced  Christians,  either  as  they  see  them 


iS^  Faith  ajid  Character. 

or  read  about  them.  They  too  often  put  themselves 
under  a  course  of  memoirs  of  eminent  saints  or  of 
precocious  Christians  ;  and  with  a  most  pernicious  re- 
sult to  their  own  Christian  peace  and  growth  ;  since 
they  lose  sight,  in  most  cases,  of  this  idea  of  being 
at  school,  and  become  discouraged  because  the  rich 
fruits  of  matured  faith  and  saintly  heroism  do  not 
appear  in  themselves.  Such  literature  has  a  real 
and  a  permanent  value  ;  but  it  wants  some  wisdom 
to  read  it  to  profit.  If  Professor  Tyndall  or  Profess- 
or Huxley  should  go  into  that  scientific  school  where 
a  dozen  lads  were  beginnirig  the  study  of  chemistry, 
and  their  teachers  should  tell  them  of  the  scienti- 
fic achievements  of  these  men,  the  legitimate  result 
would  be  to  make  them  bend  more  vigorously  to 
their  present  study.  The  effect  upon  one  morbid 
mind  of  the  dozen  might  be  to  make  him  throw 
down  his  book  and  turn  away  from  his  retorts,  say- 
ing :  **  I  am  not  like  these  men,  it  is  useless  for  me 
to  study  more  ;  I  am  discouraged."  The  proper  an- 
swer of  course  would  be  :  "  You  are  not  here  as  a 
chemist,  but  as  a  student  of  chemistry."  But  you  see 
the  point  of  the  illustration  as  applied  to  a  young 
Christian.  The  thing  for  him  to  keep  in  mind  is,  you 
are  a  disciple,  a  pupil.  Take  up  your  life  and  teach- 
ing as  God  gives  it  to  you  daily.  Keep  close  to  your 
divine  Teacher.  Do  the  task  He  sets  you,  and  let  the 
experience  of  maturer  Christians  alone.  If  their  ex- 
cellencies excite  your  admiration  and  desire,  remem- 
ber that  that  boy  becomes  the  best  developed  man 
who  best  lives  out  the  life  of  his  childhood,  and  does 


The  Divine  Law  of  Education.  185 

not  try  to  be  a  man  before  his  time.  The  range  of 
your  experience  is  narrower  ;  see  to  it  only  that  you 
gain  and  do  all  that  is  within  your  range.  Let  Christ 
work  out  what  he  will,  in  his  own  way,  in  the  sphere 
of  your  Christian  pupilage.  He  will  not  go  too  fast, 
nor  too  slow  ;  but  if  you  obediently  and  trustfully 
follow  him,  he  will  bring  you  ''unto  a  perfect  man, 
unto  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fulness  of 
Christ." 

When  God  delivered  Israel,  He  designed  to  make 
of  them  a  peculiar  people.  He  was  going  to  develop 
a  civilization  unlike  any  that  the  world  had  ever  seen  ; 
and  this  was  not  to  be  done  in  Egypt.  He  must  get 
them  away  from  the  contact  of  that  old,  idolatrous 
nation,  and  train  them  by  themselves.  And  so  He 
dealt  with  them  as  the  eagle  with  her  young,  when 
the  time  comes  for  them  to  learn  to  fly.  Their  true 
element,  little  as  they  think  it,  is  the  air ;  and  they 
can  never  learn  to  be  at  home  in  its  boundless  fields, 
so  long  as  they  remain  in  the  snug  nest.  So  she  stirs 
up  her  nest,  drives  them  out,  pushes  them  into  the 
air  ;  yet  all  the  while  is  ready,  if  the  timid  pinions  fail, 
to  drop  beneath,  and  to  receive  them  on  her  wings. 
Thus  God  drove  Israel  out  into  the  wilderness  into  a 
new  and  strange  life  ;  a  life  at  which  they  now  and 
then  rebelled,  and  from  which,  in  their  worst  moments, 
they  looked  longingly  back  to  the  animal  comforts  of 
the  old  slave  nest  in  Egypt.  But  in  the  new  and 
untried  sphere  God  never  left  them.  He  bare  them 
as  on  eagle  wings.  In  their  weakness  and  inexperi- 
ence, He  kept  them  as  the  apple  of  the  eye.     The 


1 86  Faith  a?td  Character. 

divided  sea,  the  smitten  rock,  the  manna,  the  pillar 
of  cloud  and  of  fire,  all  were  tokens  of  His  presence 
and  care.  And,  similarly,  the  inauguration  of  a  Chris- 
tian experience  is  the  inauguration  of  a  new  life.  A 
man  moves  out  into  a  new  element.  Walking  by  faith 
instead  of  by  sight  is  a  good  deal  what  trying  to  fly  is 
to  the  young  eaglet.  He  shrinks  from  it.  He  looks 
longingly  back  at  the  nest.  And  hence  this  complete 
change  of  spheres,  this  detachment  from  old  formulas 
of  thought,  old  habits  of  life,  old  desires,  old  princi- 
ples of  actions,  old  aims,  is  a  literal  stirring  up  of  the 
nest.     God  wants  him  where  He  alone  can  lead  him. 

And  within  the  sphere  of  this  general  experience 
there  will  be  a  good  many  special  experiences,  tend- 
ing the  same  way,  to  develop  the  man's  own  individ- 
ual character  by  contact  with  God.  Oh,  there  is  a 
wonderful  depth  and  pregnancy  in  that  thought,  **  The 
Lord  alone  did  lead  him."  Will  Christians  ever  fairly 
get  Iiold  of  that  thought  that  God  is  their  teacher, 
and  that  they  are  to  be  not  what  society  would  make 
them,  nor  what  family  tradition  would  make  them, 
nor  what  self-interest  would  make  them,  nor  even 
what  they  see  other  Christians  to  be,  but  just  them- 
selves, their  own  selves,  remoulded  by  the  power  of 
Christ,  and  developed  into  such  phases  of  manhood 
as  God  shall  select  for  them  ?  So,  young  man,  you 
thought,  it  may  be,  that  with  your  liberal  education, 
you  would  grace  the  bar,  or  adorn  the  annals  of  litera- 
ture. You  were  building  a  beautiful  nest,  and  set- 
tling down  with  cheerful  content,  and,  mayhap  God 
stirred  up  your  nest,  broke  up  your  plan,  and  launch- 


The  Divine  Law  of  Education.  187 

ed  you  forth  into  that  grander  field  from  which  your 
untried  powers  shrank,  in  which  more  than  in  any 
other  you  should  daily  feel  the  need  of  a  power  not 
your  own — the  preaching  of  the  unsearchable  riches 
of  Christ.  Oh,  that  God  would  stir  up  scores  of  nests, 
and  send  their  inmates  forth  into  that  sphere.  Or  it 
may  be  you  had  mapped  out  a  wide  sphere  of  useful- 
ness. You  were  to  be  active  and  prominent  in  pub- 
lic charities  and  philanthropic  movements,  and  God 
disarranged  all  that,  and  sent  you  to  pass  long  years 
by  a  sick-bed,  and  in  daily,  petty  ministries  which 
required  only  patience  and  sweetness.  You  thought 
God  was  narrowing  your  sphere  ;  but  narrow  and 
wide  do  not  mean  to  Him  always  what  they  do  to  us. 
If  you  went  into  that  life  obediently,  the  Lord  alone 
leading  you,  you  came  nearer  to  God  in  that  sphere 
than  in  any  other ;  and  any  sphere  in  which  you  walk 
with  God  is  wide  enough  for  you.  The  difference 
between  a  Christian  in  a  wide  and  in  a  narrow 
sphere,  is  sometimes  the  difference  between  a  lake 
and  an  artesian  well.  The  one  covers  more  surface, 
but  the  other  goes  down  deeper.  Again,  I  say,  wide 
or  narrow,  are  matters  of  little  consequence.  The 
great  thing  is  that  in  your  sphere  of  life  the  Lord 
alone  lead  you,  and  that  there  be  no  strange  god  with 
you.  If  he  takes  you  out  into  the  desert  alone  with 
Him,  have  you  lost  anything  ?  In  the  more  busy  and 
populous  and  stirring  life,  all  came  from  Him  ;  and 
having  Him,  have  you  not  all,  just  as  much  as  before  ? 
The  course  of  thought  leads  to  two  or  three  practi- 
cal questions.     Has  God  found  you  ?    Are  you  in  the 


1 88  Faith  and  Character, 

desert  land  to-day  ?  Nay,  do  not  evade  the  question. 
The  desert  is  where  God  is  not.  The  far  country  is 
anywhere  outside  your  Father's  house.  Anywhere 
where  you  are  living  without  faith  and  hope  in  Jesus 
Christ  is  desert  ground.  There  are  no  living  springs 
there.  There  are  powers  of  evil  that  hunger  for  your 
soul.  There  grows  no  fruit  there  that  will  nourish 
you  into  a  noble  manhood  after  Christ's  pattern.  Has 
God  found  you  ?  He  is  seeking  you  I  know.  The 
prints  of  His  footsteps  are  all  over  those  barren 
sands,  and  by  the  brink  of  those  shallow  wells  you 
have  dug  with  so  much  toil.  Go  there  some  day 
when  the  sun  beats  fiercely  on  your  head,  and  you 
are  tired  and  thirsty  and  heartsick,  and  you  shall  find 
one  sitting  there  in  the  guise  of  him  who  talked  with 
the  Samaritan,  and  who  will  talk  with  you,  and  tell 
you  too  of  living  water.  Or  is  it  true  that  you  have 
heard  His  voice  many  times,  and,  like  Adam,  are  still 
hiding  from  His  face — afraid  to  meet  Him  lest  He 
should  stir  up  your  nest  in  the  desert  ?• 

Is  God  your  guide  ?  Have  you  put  yourself,  in 
good  faith,  under  God's  instruction  ?  Then,  Chris- 
tian, why  this  hot,  hasty,  feverish  life,  this  constant 
anxiety  to  be  or  to  do  something  else?  ''Aspira- 
tion," you  say.  Must  I  not  strive  for  that  which  is 
before?  Yea,  verily,  but  all  the  while  ''''looking  unto 
Jesus.''  Aspiration  is  not  fretting,  not  anxiety,  not 
trouble.  You  shall  realize  your  aspiration  best  and 
soonest  by  walking  with  Christ,  at  liis  rate,  doing  his 
will  daily,  and  communing  with  him  as  you  walk. 
Paul  did  indeed  press  toward  the  mark  for  the  prize 


The  Divine  Law  of  Education.  189 

of  his  high  calling.  No  man  ever  had  a  higher  ideal ; 
but  it  was  all  ''in  Christ  Jesus,"  the  pressing  on  as 
well  as  the  ideal. 

And  do  you  realize  how  much  peace  and  comfort 
there  is  for  you  in  the  fact  of  God's  keeping?  ''He 
kept  him  as  the  apple  of  his  eye."  Oh,  what  tender- 
ness, what  delicate,  watchful  care  there  is  set  forth  in 
that  figure.  The  apple  of  the  eye — the  most  exqui- 
site, the  most  sensitive  part  of  the  human  frame — suf- 
fering from  the  touch  of  the  smallest  mote  ;  yet  God 
keeps  you  as  you  keep  that.  In  your  ignorance  and 
in  your  blundering,  in  your  weakness  and  in  your  dan- 
ger. He  keeps  you.  Need  you  be  sorry  any  more  ? 
Have  you  any  better  refuge  in  earth  or  heaven  than 
this  ?  Have  you  aught  else  to  do  in  this  world  of 
care  and  sin,  but  to  draw  ever  closer  to  His  side,  and 
gratefully  and  trustingly  do  the  day's  work  in  the  day, 
sure  that  the  eternal  God  is  your  refuge,  that  under- 
neath are  the  everlasting  arms  ;  and  that  as  He  will 
guide  you  by  His  counsel,  so  He  will  afterwards  re- 
ceive you  to  glory  ? 


GOOD  AND  BAD  BUILDING  ON 
THE  ONE  FOUNDATION. 


I  CORINTHIANS  III. 

(lo)  According  to  the  grace  of  God  which  is  given  unto  me, 
as  a  wise  masterbuilder,  I  have  laid  the  foundation, 
and  another  buildeth  thereon.  But  let  every  man  take 
heed  how  he  buildeth  thereupon. 

(i  i)  For  other  foundation  can  no  man  lay  than  that  is  laid, 
which  is  Jesus  Christ. 

(12)  Now  if  any  man  build  upon  this  foundation  gold,  silver, 

precious  stones,  wood,  hay,  stubble  ; 

(13)  Every  man's  work  shall  be  made  manifest  :  for  the  day 

shall  declare  it,  because  it  shall  be  revealed  by  fire  ; 
and  the  fire  shall  try  every  man's  work  of  what  sort 
it  is. 

(14)  If  any  man's  work  abide  which  he  hath  built  thereupon, 

he  shall  receive  a  reward. 

(15)  If  any  man's  work  shall  be  burned,  he  shall  suffer  loss  : 

but  he  himself  shall  be  saved ;  yet  so  as  by  fire. 


XL 


GOOD  AND   BAD   BUILDING  ON   THE  ONE 
FOUNDATION. 

We  are  looking  through  these  verses  into  the  Cor- 
inthian church  of  the  first  Christian  century.  It  is 
not  a  pleasing  picture.  Riot  at  sacred  feasts,  gross 
sin  tolerated,  endless  disputations  over  meat  offered 
to  idols,  bitter  partisanships  centring  in  favorite  min- 
isters, awaken  our  disgust.  Yet  neither  is  it  a  picture 
adapted  to  flatter  the  self-complacency  of  the  modern 
church.  We  are  not  altogether  unlike.  Some  at 
least  of  these  old  abuses  repeat  themselves,  and  make 
Paul's  keen  admonitions  as  fitting  now  as  then. 

No  one,  for  instance,  need  ask  for  a  better  descrip- 
tion of  the  church  in  New  York  (not  to  go  farther), 
than  is  given  in  this  chapter ;  the  church  divided 
into  parties,  each  with  the  name  of  its  favorite  minis- 
ter for  a  watchword.  One  saith,  *'  I  am  of  Paul,"  an- 
other, "I  am  of  Apollos,"  another,  ''I  am  of  Peter." 
Substitute  other  names  for  these,  and  you  have  the 
picture  faithfully  reproduced  in  our  own  commu- 
nity. 

Against  this  error  Paul  puts  forward  God  in  Christ, 
as  the  proper  centre  of  the  church's  interest  and  zeal. 
Ministers,  he  says,  are  only  servants,  as  their  name 
9 


194  Faith  and  Character, 

implies,  receiving  from  God  everything  which  endears 
or  makes  them  useful  to  His  people.  They  have  dif- 
ferent gifts  and  different  offices.  One  plants,  another 
waters,  but  the  increase,  the  fruit  of  their  labor,  is 
from  God  only.  '*  Neither  is  he  that  planteth  any- 
thing, neither  he  that  watereth,  but  God  that  giveth  the 
increase."  He  that  planteth  and  he  that  watereth  are 
not  two,  doing  two  works,  heading  two  parties,  they 
are  one  ;  fellow-workers  under  God.  And  in  reading 
the  ninth  verse  in  the  original,  you  will  observe  how 
the  word  God  is  emphasized.  **  For  of  God  are  we 
fellow  laborers  :  of  God  are  ye  the  husbandry  :  of  God 
are  ye  the  building."  Each  congregation  is  not  a 
field  of  its  own,  cultivated  by  its  own  minister.  Ye 
are  Goifs  husbandry,  not  Paul's  nor  Peter's.  We  are 
not  building  up  each  a  sect  for  himself.  Ye  are  Goifs 
building. 

We  are  prepared,  therefore,  for  the  following  state- 
ment :  The  foundation  of  Christian  teaching  is  not 
in  man  ;  it  is  not  Paul,  nor  Apollos,  nor  any  system 
or  philosophy  of  theirs.  It  is  Jesus  Christ.  Other 
foundation  can  no  man  lay.  ''If,"  says  Paul,  in 
effect,  ''  I  have  laid  the  foundation  of  the  church, 
it  has  been  only  as  God's  agent,  presenting  to  you 
Christ  and  him  crucified  as  the  basis  of  your  church 
life,  the  starting-point  of  the  instructions  of  all  who 
shall  succeed  me." 

It  is  not  my  purpose,  however,  to  dwell  upon  this 
foundation  truth,  but  to  follow  the  apostle  in  the  line 
of  thought  which  lie  draws  from  it.  The  text  refers 
directly  to   Christian   ministers  ;    but    its  application 


Good  and  Bad  Building  on  One  Foundation.    195 

need  not  be  confined  to  them,  since  every  Christian 
is,  in  his  own  sphere,  a  builder  or  a  worker  for 
God. 

The  matter  of  the  foundation,  then,  is  settled. 
There  is  but  one  basis  of  Christian  life,  Christian 
work,  and  Christian  teaching.  But  the  foundation  is 
not  an  end  unto  itself.  It  implies  a  building  ;  and 
the  building  as  well  as  the  foundation  is  to  be  the 
object  of  care  to  the  Christian.  ^'  Let  every  man  take 
heed  how  he  buildeth  thereupon."  It  is  indispensa- 
ble that  a  man  should  begin  his  religious  life  with  the 
right  principle  ;  but  it  is  likewise  important  that  he 
should  carry  out  his  principle  in  the  right  way.  A 
bank  clerk  may  perfectly  understand  the  principles 
of  book-keeping,  and  the  rules  of  arithmetic,  yet 
through  carelessness  may  make  a  mistake,  which  shall 
render  a  balance  impossible,  and  keep  him  hunting 
half  the  night  for  his  error.  It  is  distinctly  implied 
here  that  even  on  so  secure  a  foundation  as  Jesus 
Christ  it  is  possible  to  build  work  or  teaching  which 
will  not  stand  the  final  and  decisive  test  of  the  judg- 
ment-day. 

It  is  evident  from  the  apostle's  words  that  a  great 
variety  of  building  on  this  foundation  is  contemplated. 
It  is  of  different  qualities,  represented  by  different 
materials :  some  permanent  and  precious,  as  gold, 
silver,  jewels  ;  others  perishable,  like  wood,  hay,  stub- 
ble. This,  which  appears  here  in  figure,  is  a  fact  of 
experience  to  all  of  us.  We  see  the  great  variety  of 
teaching,  of  methods,  of  types  of  character,  which  the 
Christian  church  represents.     In  preaching  we  have 


196  Faith  and  Character, 

Paul's  kindled  logic  and  pungent  appeal,  Apollos' 
graceful  rhetoric,  and  Peter's  straightforward  sim- 
plicity, all  reproduced,  with  infinite  varieties,  in  the 
modern  pulpit.  One  deals  more  with  the  intellect, 
another  more  with  the  heart.  One  deals  with  the 
skeleton  of  truth,  another  clothes  it  with  flesh  and 
blood.  One  dwells  more  on  the  doctrinal,  another 
on  the  historical  and  poetical  parts  of  the  Scripture. 
One  deduces  from  it  one  scheme  of  theology,  another 
another.  One  man's  preaching  is  solid,  scriptural, 
full  of  the  jewels  of  truth  ;  another's  is  largely  mixed 
with  rant  and  fustian,  betraying  hasty  and  superficial 
study  of  the  word.  There  is  the  simple  freedman 
with  little  beside  his  experimental  knowledge  of 
Christ,  who  finds  in  a  text  the  expression  of  some 
quaint  conceit  of  his  own,  and  expounds  it  with  unc- 
tion to  his  unlettered  brethren.  And  there  is  the  re- 
former who  practically  regards  the  whole  Bible  as 
written  to  enforce  his  peculiar  hobby,  and  who  inter- 
prets it  accordingly. 

Or,  take  the  matter  of  commenting  on  the  Scrip- 
tures. Here,  too,  the  work  of  the  various  builders 
differs.  Here  is  one  who  looks  upon  a  portion  of 
Scripture  as  a  mosaic  composed  of  a  multitude  of 
pieces,  each  piece  precious  ;  and  he  takes  a  Psalm  or 
a  gospel  chapter,  and  examines  every'  piece  as  with 
a  microscope,  and  finds  a  meaning  in  every  word  and 
in  every  shade  of  mood  or  tense.  Another,  like  a 
quarry-man,  finds  the  great  lines  of  cleavage,  and 
cuts  along  those,  and  treats  the  Bible  broadly  with 
reference  to  its  great  salient  truths.     One  allegorizes 


Good  and  Bad  Building  on  Ojze  Foundation.    197 

Scripture,  finding  in  every  narrative  a  hidden  spirit- 
ual or  doctrinal  sense.  This  tendency  is  very  mani- 
fest in  our  own  day,  in  the  way  in  which  a  certain 
class  of  teachers  interpret  the  details  of  the  Mosaic 
ritual  and  of  the  tabernacle  furniture.  Others,  again, 
like  the  vast  army  of  modern  German  and  English 
commentators,  labor  to  penetrate  to  the  literal  mean- 
ing of  the  text,  and  bring  to  its  illustration  the  treas- 
ures of  historic  and  linguistic  learning,  and  the  results 
of  observant  travel. 

Or,  look  at  the  matter  of  Christian  work.  Here, 
on  the  one  hand,  you  see  Christian  zeal  taking  shape 
in  young  men's  or  young  w^omen's  Christian  associa- 
tions, or  in  Sabbath-schools,  and  mission  chapels.  On 
the  other  hand  you  have  an  institution  like  the  Port 
Royal  Monaster}^,  the  home  of  such  rare  Christlike 
spirits  as  St.  Cyran,  Angelique  Arnauld,  and  the  Pas- 
cals, yet  equally  the  home  of  Romish  austerities  and 
miracles,  and  the  scene  of  unnatural  seclusion  from 
society.  On  the  one  hand,  the  work  of  a  Presbyte- 
rian or  Methodist  missionary  in  China  or  India,  trans- 
lating the  Scriptures,  setting  up  printing  presses,  or- 
ganizing native  churches  ;  on  the  other  the  Jesuit  mis- 
sionaries in  Northern  America  in  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury, carving  the  name  of  Jesus  on  the  forest  trees  as 
a  terror  to  the  demons  of  the  wilderness,  rejoicing 
over  the  salvation  of  a  soul  if  they  could  but  touch, 
by  stealth,  the  brow  of  a  dying  infant  w^ith  baptismal 
water,  and  sending  home  for  highly-colored  pictures 
of  souls  in  torment  as  gifts  to  the  Indians  ;  yet  pur- 
suing their  w^ork  in  the  face  of  mutilation  and  death 


198  Faith  and  Character. 

with  a  courage  and  persistence  and  devotion  unsur- 
passed in  the  annals  of  missions. 

So,  too,  when  we  come  down  to  individual  types 
of  Christian  character,  we  find  the  variety  infinite ; 
the  gold  of  saintliness,  the  stubble  of  bigotry,  oddi- 
ties and  eccentricities  for  which  it  seems  as  if  there 
were  not  room  on  the  one  foundation  ;  and  manhood 
and  womanhood  which  seems  well-nigh  of  a  piece 
with  the  foundation  itself. 

With  this  recognized  fact  of  the  variety  of  Christian 
development,  the  text  advances  another  truth,  namely, 
that  each  of  these  forms  of  development  has  a  value  of 
its  own,  and  that  they  are  not  alike  valuable,  even 
though  they  rest  on  the  true  foundation  ;  in  other 
words,  that  a  man  may  be  really  a  Christian,  and  yet 
do  work  which  may  be  described  by  wood,  hay,  stub- 
ble, and  which  will  not  stand  the  final,  fiery  test  of 
the  last  day.  It  is  a  not  uncommon  popular  error 
that  all  work,  done  sincerely  in  Christ's  name,  de- 
serves approval  because  of  the  sincerity  of  the  doer. 
But  that  is  not  the  teaching  of  this  passage.  How 
God  may  turn  such  work  to  good,  is  another  and  an 
entirely  distinct  question.  The  question  here  con- 
cerns the  essential  quality  of  the  work.  Two  teach- 
ers interpret  Scripture  in  opposite  ways.  Both  can- 
not be  right,  and  both  maybe  wrong.  Of  two  sincere 
Christians  we  can  see  for  ourselves  that  one  is  nobler, 
sweeter,  larger  than  the  other.  Of  two  methods  of 
work,  we  can  see  that  the  one  goes  farther  and  deeper 
than  the  other.  It  is  a  matter  of  endless  surprise 
what  varieties  of  work  and  of  workmen  the  gospel 


Good  and  Bad  Building  07i  One  Foundation.    199 

tolerates — incompetent  teachers,  injudicious  reform- 
ers, fanatics,  and  shallow  expounders.  The  final  re- 
sult of  this  toleration  we  have  nothing  to  do  with. 
That  is  God's  matter ;  but  this  at  least  is  clear,  that 
God,  in  tolerating,  does  not  waive  the  right  to  judge 
the  work  itself,  whatever  He  may  do  with  the  work- 
ers ;  that  some  of  this  work  done  in  Christ's  name 
will  be  summarily  condemned  ;  and  that  God  tells  us 
this  truth  as  a  warning  to  take  good  heed  as  to  the 
character  of  our  work  and  teaching.  Sincerity  will 
not  destroy  the  difference  between  the  essential  value 
of  different  kinds  of  building.  In  the  great  day  of 
judgment,  of  two  equally  sincere  men,  one's  w^ork 
shall  stand  and  the  other's  shall  be  burned. 

This  fact  gives  tremendous  emphasis  to  the  key- 
note of  this  passage  :  "Let  every  man  take  heed  hoiv 
he  buildeth  thereupon."  Thereupon^  on  that  founda- 
tion. The  foundation  alone  does  not  insure  good 
building.  When  a  man  is  once  converted,  truly  con- 
verted, his  life  resting  on  Jesus  Christ,  the  only  foun- 
dation, the  necessity  for  caution  does  not  cease.  Now 
begins  the  process  of  developing  the  highest  and  best 
uses  of  such  power  as  nature  or  education  may  have 
given  him  ;  a  process  calling  for  the  utmost  caution 
and  vigilance  and  persistence.  Now  begins  the  train- 
ing in  duty.  Now  begins  the  education  of  the  con- 
science. Do  you  think  that  is  a  strange  statement  ? 
Possibly  you  do,  for  it  is  commonly  assumed  that  con- 
version sets  the  conscience,  of  all  other  things,  right 
at  once ;  and  we  are  filled  with  horror,  as  if  there 
were  something  unnatural  in  the  fact,  when  a  recent- 


200  Faith  and  Character. 

ly  converted  man  or  woman  walks  deliberately  into 
some  sin,  with  no  apparent  sense  of  its  sinfulness. 
And  yet  is  it  so  unnatural  after  all  ?  I  was  talking, 
not  many  months  since,  with  one  of  the  most  experi- 
enced and  intelligent  mission  w^orkers  in  this  city, 
and  he  said,  speaking  of  some  of  the  degraded  people 
among  whom  his  w^ork  lay  :  ''  One  of  the  greatest  of 
all  the  needs  which  w^e  feel  in  our  work  is  that  of  a 
steady  influence  to  educate  the  conscience.  Those  of 
them  who  give  the  best  evidence  of  conversion,  will 
often  be  found  doing  shocking  things,  without  seem- 
ing to  know  that  they  are  doing  anything  out  of  the 
way."  But  you  need  not  go  to  a  New  York  mission 
to  see  that  truth  illustrated.  Paul  deals  with  it  in 
this  very  Epistle.  He  devotes  a  great  deal  of  atten- 
tion to  the  weak,  uneducated  conscience,  as  a  famil- 
iar fact  in  the  Christian  church.  And  the  sooner  a 
newly  converted  man  can  be  gotten  out  of  the  con- 
ceit that  conversion  sets  him  right,  and  all  right  once 
for  all,  and  can  be  made  to  grasp  the  fact  that  he  has 
a  building  to  erect  upon  his  foundation — a  structure 
which  involves  the  right  training  of  his  will  and  con- 
science, his  power  to  speak  and  to  work,  the  right 
casting  of  his  example  into  a  right  mould — the  better 
for  him,  and  for  those  about  him. 

The  Church  cannot  insist  too  much  upon  the  one 
foundation  ;  but  she  needs  to  press  far  more  urgently 
than  she  has  done  the  caution  :  ''  Let  every  man  take 
heed  how  he  buildcth  thereupon."  We  are  not  to  re- 
press men's  individuality  ;  we  are  to  take  it  for  granted 
that,  in  the  infinite  variety  of  God's  methods,  each 


Good  and  Bad  Building  on  One  Foundation.    201 

man  can  find  the  way  of  building  best  adapted  to  his 
own  powers  and  qualities.  But  we  are  to  insist  on  the 
truth  that  men  have  a  duty  beyond,  and  growing  out 
of  the  duty  of  being  born  again  ;  that  they  are  respon- 
sible not  merely  for  being  converted,  but  for  the 
shape  which  conversion  takes  in  the  net  result  of 
their  lives.  Opposed  to  this  is  the  popular  religious 
sentiment  that  it  matters  little  how  crude  a  man  is 
and  remains,  provided  he  is  right  at  the  foundation, 
sincere  and  enthusiastic.  It  does  matter  greatly. 
The  sincerity  is  indispensable.  The  enthusiasm  is 
a  heavenly  spark  which  should  be  kept  alive  ;  but 
moral  building  implies  character,  and  character  is 
more  than  enthusiasm,  or  sincerity.  Salvation  is  a 
gift  of  God,  but  it  is  also  to  be  worked  out  by  each 
man  with  fear  and  trembling  to  carry  out  the  good 
pleasure  of  God  who  worketh  in  him.  The  Devil's 
kingdom  is  not  going  to  be  carried  by  men's  begin- 
ning to  be  Christians,  any  more  than  a  country  is  to 
be  captured  by  any  number  of  soldiers  enlisting,  or  a 
house  to  be  carried  up  by  merely  laying  a  good  foun- 
dation. A  man  must  tell  positively  upon  the  world, 
as  well  as  enjoy  the  raptures  of  forgiven  sin.  Under 
the  impulse  of  his  faith  and  joyful  hope,  he  is  to  go 
forward,  building  prayerfully  and  heedfully  a  super- 
structure of  trained  character  and  power,  which  shall 
by  and  by  bring  the  divine  reward  of  good  work  as 
well  as  the  saving  result  of  sincere  faith. 

There  has  been  mischief  done  under  the  shelter  of 
the  familiar  phrase  ''  preaching  Christ. "  A  host  of  plau- 
sible crudities  and  hasty  generalizations  have  found 


202  Faith  and  Character, 

their  way  into  popular  religious  teaching  under  this 
name.  And  this  fact  reaches  beyond  ministers  of  the 
gospel.  Every  Christian  is  a  builder,  every  Christian 
is,  in  some  sense,  a  teacher.  Every  Christian  does 
something  to  shape  the  life,  modify  the  opinions,  and 
mould  the  conscience  of  others  ;  and,  consequently, 
ever}^  man  who  by  teaching  or  life  preaches  Christ 
only  as  a  saviour  from  sin,  and  does  not  farther 
preach  him  as  a  teacher,  a  guide,  a  developer  of  char- 
acter, a  power  in  Christian  growth  and  culture,  who 
remains  standing  before  the  world  a  forgiven  man, 
and  nothing  more,  preaches  him  partially,  and  needs 
the  apostle's  caution,  '*  Let  every  man  take  heed  how 
he  buildeth  thereupon." 

And  even  in  its  relation  to  ministers  of  the  gospel, 
this  truth  touches  the  people  at  large  ;  for  the  people 
have  much  to  do  in  shaping  their  ministers.  That 
there  are  terrible  possibilities  in  this  popular  power 
over  the  pulpit,  you  may  easily  see  from  that  passage 
in  Paul's  second  Epistle  to  Timothy :  "  For  the  time 
will  come  when  they  will  not  endure  the  teaching 
that  is  healthful,  but,  according  to  their  own  desires 
(and  the  word  is  almost  always  used  in  the  New  Tes- 
tament for  evil  desire)  shall  they,  being  tickled  in 
their  ears,  heap  up  teachers  unto  themselves."  In 
other  words,  a  time  is  predicted  when  such  teachers 
shall  abound,  be  heaped  up  ;  made  by  men  to  suit 
their  own  notions,  and  not  anointed  by  God  to  de- 
clare His  mind  and  will.  Too  often  we  have  seen 
that  prophecy  fulfilled.  Too  often  to-day  we  hear 
the  people's  clamor  to  have  their  ears  tickled.     Too 


Good  and  Bad  Building  on  One  Foundation.    205 

often  we  have  seen  the  tragedy  of  Sinai  repeated,  the 
priest  making,  with  his  owi^i  hands,  the  gilded  idol, 
for  which  the  multitude  cries  out,  and  offering  the 
sacrifice  of  their  idolatry  in  the  very  temple  of  the 
living  God.  The  fact  that  such  a  power  exists,  that 
it  does  now  and  then  prevail  to  debauch  an  anointed 
servant  of  God,  is  enough  to  awaken  our  vigilance. 
If  the  preacher  is  to  heed  this  admonition  to  take 
care  how  he  builds  on  the  foundation,  Jesus  Christ, 
the  people  are  equally  to  take  heed  that  they  bring 
no  pressure  to  bear  to  divert  him  from  his  heed- 
ful building,  and  to  urge  him  to  build  more  showily, 
more  hastily,  and  more  carelessly.  We  are  only  too 
familiar  in  this  city  with  what  comes  of  running  up 
houses  too  fast.  With  all  their  brave  frontage  of  cut 
stone  and  pointed  brick,  there  is  an  awful  crash  now 
and  then.  We  want  no  gain  in  the  church  which  comes 
at  the  expense  of  careful  building  ;  and  it  becomes 
the  people  not  to  look  to  their  pastors  for  weekly 
entertainment,  but,  as  co-workers  with  them  in  build- 
ing the  building  of  God,  to  guard  their  pulpits  with 
prayer,  with  sympathy,  and  with  intelligence,  and  to 
encourage  them,  in  every  possible  way,  to  take  heed 
how  they  build. 

But  the  apostle  gives  us  another  thought,  lest  we 
should  be  tempted  to  identify  the  final  judgment  of 
the  worker  with  the  judgment  pronounced  upon  his 
work.  A  man's  personal  relation  to  Christ  is  one 
thing,  the  essential  excellence  of  his  work  is  another 
thing.  It  is  true  that  his  work  will  be  affected  very 
decidedly  by  his  relation  to  Christ,  but  we  are  none 


204  Faith  and  Character. 

the  less  bidden   to  hold  fast  the  distinction  between 
these   two.      No   man  will    be    saved   because   of   his 
work.     He  will  be  saved  only  because  Jesus  Christ 
gave  himself  for   him.     But  this  work  may  receive 
approval  nevertheless,  and  he  may  get  a  reward  for  it, 
or,  on  the  other  hand,  his  work  may  be  condemned ; 
the  material  he  has  used  may  prove  to  be  no  better 
than  hay  or  stubble,  and  may  be  burned,  but  he  him- 
self may  be  saved.     He  will  suffer  loss,  but  he  him- 
self shall  be  saved,  yet  saved  as  by  fire,  saved  as  he  is 
who  escapes  from  his  burning  house,  unharmed  in- 
deed, but  with  the  loss  of  all   his  goods.     You  may 
ask   me  w^hy,  if  a  man  rests  on  the  true  foundation, 
his  work  is  not  necessarily  good.     Has  not  God  prom- 
ised to  direct  the  work  of  those  who  trust  Him,  and 
will  He  not  make  their  work  right  as  well  as  them- 
selves ?  Yes,  that  is  true,  logically  ;  true,  scripturally  ; 
true,  in  fact,  often  enough  to  substantiate  both  logic 
and  Scripture  ;  and  yet  it  is  also  true  (who  of  us  does 
not  know  it  ? )  that  the  workers  on  the  great  founda- 
tion often  do  not  fully  know  nor  use  their  helps  ;  that 
they  are  often  slow  in   learning  self-distrust,  slow  in 
apprehending  the  wonderful  love  of  God  w^hich  is  at 
their  disposal ;  slow    in    availing    themselves  of   the 
heavenly  wisdom   offered   for   the   asking  ;  slow   in 
growing  out  of  their  conceit  and  self-will  ;  and,  there- 
fore,  much  of  their  work   takes   its  character  from 
these  lower  and  baser  conditions,  while  the  new  prin- 
ciple of  life  in  them  is  slowly  pushing  them  upward 
through   these  conditions  toward   something  better. 
Only  the  better  thing  may  come  very  late  ;  too  late 


Good  and  Bad  Building  07i  One  Foundation.    205 

for  the  worker  to  get  any  reward  for  his  work  itself  ; 
yet  the  sincere  believer  in  Jesus  shall  not  lose  his 
place  at  his  right  hand.  Your  little  child  comes  to 
you  with  a  few  scrawls,  by  which  she  has  tried  to  rep- 
resent a  flower  or  an  animal.  Her  work  itself  you 
cannot  enjoy  nor  approve  ;  you  would  not  frame  it 
and  call  on  your  friends  to  admire  it ;  it  is  fit  only  for 
the  waste  basket ;  but  none  the  less  does  the  child  re- 
ceive the  coveted  kiss,  and  climb  into  the  loved  place 
in  your  arms  when  she  brings  the  scrawl. 

So  long  as  love  does  not  fail,  and  faith  which  works 
by  love,  imperfect  work  will  not  separate  the  believer 
from  the  love  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus.  But  this  fact 
is  not  intended  to  weaken  the  force  of  the  admoni- 
tion, ''  Let  every  man  take  heed  how  he  buildeth 
thereupon."  He  who  should  encourage  himself  in 
hasty  or  superficial  work  by  the  consideration  that  he 
might  be  saved  though  his  work  should  perish,  would 
awaken  a  very  reasonable  doubt  as  to  his  being  on  the 
true  foundation  at  all.  And  a  Christian  man  ought 
to  be  ashamed  to  live  for  nothing  but  his  final  salva- 
tion. Life,  though  it  be  short,  is  rich  in  opportuni- 
ties ;  it  is  a  seed  time  for  a  harvest  which  other  lives 
may  reap.  At  any  rate,  these  words  of  the  apostle 
fasten  our  eyes  on  this  life,  brief  though  it  be,  and 
point  to  our  task  of  building,  and  bid  us  take  heed 
to  it,  and  not  presume  upon  final  bliss  to  neglect  pres- 
ent duty. 

Who  that  surveys  this  span  of  life  we  tread, 
This  narrow  isthmus  'twixt  two  boundless  seas — 
The  past,  the  future— two  eternities — 


206  Faith  and  Character, 

Would  sully  the  bright  spot  or  leave  it  bare, 
When  he  might  build  him  a  proud  temple  there? 
A  name  which  long  should  hallow  all  its  space, 
And  be  each  purer  soul's  high  resting-place. 

One  thing  more  remains.  The  tests  of  work  which 
we  apply  here  cannot  be  final.  The  day  shall  declare 
it — the  day  which  shall  he  revealed  in  fire.  Then 
first  we  shall  fully  understand  the  absolute  value  of 
work.  We  shall  doubtless  find  out  then  that  the  great 
temple  of  God  on  the  one  foundation  is  a  far  larger 
structure  than  we  think,  and  admits  of  far  greater 
varieties  of  work.  On  the  one  hand,  this  text  does 
not  convey  the  comforting  doctrine  that  God  will  ap- 
prove all  work  which  men  reject.  Many  a  man  who 
has  gone  grumbling  through  life  because  he  thought 
he  was  unappreciated,  will  find  there  that  his  work 
did  not  deserve  to  be  appreciated,  and  that  the  de- 
stroying fire  confirms  and  emphasizes  the  judgment 
of  men.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  text  does  im- 
ply that  men's  judgment  of  work  may  be  utterly 
at  fault ;  and  that  much  which  they  have  mistaken 
for  hay  and  stubble,  may  turn  out  to  be  gold  and 
silver ;  and  much  which  they  have  received  as  pre- 
cious stones,  prove  to  be  but  paste.  We  are  easily 
misled  in  this  thing.  We  sometimes  think  a  man's 
work  is  poor,  because  he  cannot  get  other  men  to 
accept  his  ideas  and  methods.  But  I  am  tempted 
to  quote  to  you  just  here  some  w^ords  of  one  of  the 
vigorous  thinkers  of  the  English  pulpit :  **  No  great 
man  really  does  his  work  by  imposing  his  maxims  on 
his  disciples.     He  evokes  their  life.     Correggio  cries, 


Good  and  Bad  Building  on  One  Foundation.    207 

after  gazing  intently  on  a  picture  of  Raphael,  *  I, 
too,  am  a  painter,'  not  one  who  will  imitate  the  great 
master,  but  who  will  work  a  way  for  himself.  The 
pupil  may  become  much  wiser  than  his  instructor, 
he  may  not  accept  his  conclusions,  but  he  will  own, 
'you  awakened  me  to  be  myself,  for  that  I  thank 
you."" 

So  a  sincere  and  good  man's  theories  may  be  wrong  ; 
but  he  may  do  his  work  through  the  stimulus  which 
his  character  gives  to  another  man  whose  charac- 
ter and  theories  are  both  right ;  and  that  work  will 
stand.  But  that  is  a  kind  of  work  which  lies  under 
the  surface.  It  is  little  appreciated  here  ;  but  it  is 
preparing  a  host  of  surprises  for  us  against  the  final 
day  of  award.  And  oh,  what  a  collapse  of  great 
popular  reputations  that  day  will  witness  ;  what  a 
change  of  places  among  men  who  have  been  leaders 
in  science,  in  politics,  in  business,  in  religion  ;  what  a 
paling  and  vanishing  of  much  work  whose  glitter  has 
dazzled  the  world  ;  and  what  bursting  into  eternal 
beauty  and  glory  of  the  work  of  many  a  quiet  toiler 
who  took  far  more  heed  to  the  quality  of  his  building 
than  to  what  men  said  of  it  or  of  him. 

We  reach,  then,  some  important  practical  counsels. 

I  St.  Every  Christian  is  responsible  for  the  way  in 
which  he  makes  his  life  in  Christ  tell  upon  the  world. 
His  care  and  watchfulness  only  begin  with  the  hour 
of  his  conversion.  Henceforth  he  owes  the  world 
that  lesson  of  healthy.  Christian  growth,  and  of  true 

'  Maurice,  "  The  Conscience." 


2o8  Faith  and  Char'acter, 

economy  of  power,  and  of  labor  regulated  by  heavenly 
laws,  and  conducted  on  divine  plans,  which  he  him- 
self can  learn  only  by  diligence  and  faith  and  prayer 
and  caution.     Take  heed.  Christian,  what  you  build. 

2d.  Remember  that  good  work  shall  receive  a  re- 
ward. It  will  not  save  you,  but  it  shall  be  saved  and 
approved  in  the  light  of  the  great  day.  You  and  I 
may  be  indeed  thankful  if  we  be  saved  as  by  fire  ; 
if,  having  done  all,  we  may  simply  stand  ;  but,  for  all 
that,  we  should  blush  to  set  before  us  salvation  by  fire 
as  the  goal  of  our  efforts.  To  do  good  work,  perma- 
nent work,  is  a  lawful  ambition,  which  ought  never  to 
be  wanting  to  a  Christian  disciple.  Try  to  fill  your 
days  with  it.  Try  to  make  your  lives  the  scene  of  the 
very  best  building  you  can  do  ;  building  w^hich  shall 
stand  and  shine  forever  in  the  smile  of  God,  when  the 
hay  and  stubble  shall  consume  in  the  judgment  fire. 

3d.  Remember,  then,  that  if  you  honestly  strive,  and 
fail,  yet  Christ  remains  to  you.  Only  be  sure  you 
abide  in  him.  Only  be  sure  the  one  foundation  is 
under  you  ;  and  then,  if  through  sincere  mistaking 
your  work  be  lost,  you  shall  none  the  less  be  changed 
into  his  image  in  that  realm  of  clear  seeing,  from 
which  error  shall  be  forever  banished. 


CAUTION  AND  COMFORT  FOR 
THE  TEMPTED. 


I  CORINTHIANS  X. 

(12)  Wherefore  let  him  that  thinketh  he  standeth  take  heed 

lest  he  fall. 

(13)  There  hath  no  temptation  taken  you  but  such  as  is  com- 

mon to  man  :  but  God  is  faithful,  who  will  not  suffer 
you  to  be  tempted  above  that  ye  are  able  ;  but  will 
with  the  temptation  also  make  a  way  to  escape,  that  ye 
may  be  able  to  bear  it. 


XII. 

CAUTION    AND    COMFORT    FOR    THE 
TEMPTED. 

Paul's  object  in  citing  the  history  of  Israel  in  this 
chapter,  was  the  admonition  of  the  Corinthian  church. 
**  These  things,"  he  says,  *' happened  unto  them  for 
ensamples  :  and  they  are  written  for  our  admonition, 
upon  whom  the  ends  of  the  world  are  come  ; "  that  is, 
who  are  living  in  the  latter  days  of  the  world.  That 
people  enjoyed  great  and  special  privileges,  yet  they 
fell  into  sin,  provoked  God's  displeasure,  and  died  in 
the  wilderness.  "Therefore,"  is  the  argument,  **  there 
is  danger  that  you  Christians,  with  all  the  great  privi- 
leges of  which  you  boast  in  this  beautiful  and  culti- 
vated city  of  Corinth,  may  fall  into  sin  as  they  did, 
and  incur  punishment  as  they  did.  I,  Paul,  myself, 
your  teacher,  must  needs  watch  and  pray,  and  keep 
myself  in  subjection,  lest  after  having  preached  to 
others,  I  should  be  rejected." 

The  caution  of  the  text  follows  naturally  from  this 
course  of  thought  :  "  Wherefore,"  since  there  is  such 
danger,  "  let  him  that  thinketh  he  standeth  take  heed 
lest  he  fall." 

In  these  two  verses  we  may  find  three  truths  grouped 
round  the  old  theme  of  temptation. 


212  Faith  and  Character. 

I  St.  That  he  whose  moral  stability  seems  to  be  as- 
sured by  the  very  best  safeguards,  is  in  danger  of  fall- 
ing. 

2d.  That  there  is  nothing  in  the  nature  of  tempta- 
tion which  necessitates  his  falling. 

3d.  That  there  is  everything  in  the  divine  ordering 
of  temptation  to  prevent  his  falling,  and  to  increase 
his  stability. 

First,  then,  he  who  seems  to  himself  to  be,  morally, 
most  secure,  is  in  danger  of  falling. 

There  is  more  than  an  implication  that  a  man  may 
be  mistaken  about  his  security.  Not  he  that  standeth, 
but  he  that  thinks  he  stands  is  w^arned  to  take  heed. 
I  believe  that  if  there  were  any  way  of  finding  out 
the  truth  about  all  the  mishaps  of  travellers  in  the 
world,  it  would  be  discovered  that  a  great  many  more 
disasters  have  happened  on  smooth  and  safe  roads 
than  on  rough  and  dangerous  ones.  Some  of  you 
who  have  been  in  Switzerland,  will  remember  a  spot 
along  the  border  of  the  Mer  de  Glace,  known  as  the 
"bad  path" — a  narrow  ledge,  with  only  room  for 
one  person  to  walk  at  a  time,  with  a  steeply  shelving 
bank  below,  and  an  equally  steep  one  above.  If  you 
watch  a  party  of  tourists  threading  that  path,  you  see 
that  each  one  keeps  his  eye  fastened  on  the  ground, 
sets  down  his  foot  each  time  with  the  utmost  care, 
and  often  clings  to  the  hand  or  staff  of  the  guide  in 
front.  And  you  do  not  often  hear  of  accidents  there, 
dangerous  as  the  place  is.  But  when  a  man  starts  off 
on  a  fine,  smooth  road,  he  is  very  apt  to  think  that 
his  feet  will  take  care  of  themselves,  and  that  his  eyes 


Caution  and  Comfort  for  the   Tempted.     213 

may  be  employed  as  he  pleases  ;  and  so,  while  he  is 
striding  along,  looking  up  at  the  clouds  or  hill  tops, 
or  off  to  the  landscape,  his  feet  are  sure  to  find  a  stray 
stone,  and  down  he  goes.  It  is  no  otherwise  in  moral 
experience.  Confidence  ruins  more  men  than  fear. 
Safety  corrupts  more  men  than  danger.  He  who 
knew  human  nature  as  no  other  knows  it,  urged  on 
his  own  disciples  no  duty  more  strenuously  than  that 
of  watching;  and  right  on  from  Adam  downward 
there  has  been  a  series  of  sad  histories,  histories  of 
falls  of  the  men  who  seemed  to  be  most  securely 
guarded  against  falling. 

Observation  seems  to  show  that  a  power  of  delusion 
lurks  in  the  very  circumstances  which  appear  to  favor 
firm  standing.  If  you  study  the  remarkable  succes- 
sion of  moral  shipwrecks  which  has  astonished  and 
shocked  society  in  the  last  few  months,  you  notice 
that  they  are  mostly  those  of  men  who,  to  all  appear- 
ance, had  every  reason  and  every  help  for  firm  stand- 
ing ;  so  that  the  prevailing  tone  of  comment  is  that 
of  surprise:  ''To  think  that  he  should  fall!  So 
honored,  so  trusted,  so  much  to  live  for  !  Such  splen- 
did opportunities  !"  And  that  is  not  mere  surface  talk 
either.  When  you  get  inside  the  circle  of  these  men's 
lives,  you  find  the  safeguards  even  stronger  than  pop- 
ular comment  had  represented  them.  Let  me  cite 
you  one  case.  He  was  a  minister  of  the  gospel.  He 
had  passed  on  to  middle  life  esteemed  and  trusted. 
He  served  his  church  in  great  financial  interests,  where 
hundreds  of  thousands  passed  through  his  hands.  He 
retired  from  public  life  with  the  respect  and  confi- 


214  Faith  and  Character. 

dence  of  the  church,  and  was  journeying  quietly  on 
toward  life's  close  with  a  good  name,  a  modest  com- 
petence, an  affectionate  family  ;  and  then  came  the 
tidings  that  he  had  fled,  in  disgrace,  with  the  stolen 
funds  of  a  public  institution  in  his  pocket.  You 
would  have  said,  that  if  any  man  had  passed  the  dan- 
ger of  a  moral  fall  he  was  the  man.  You  could  under- 
stand how  a  young  man,  in  the  first  flush  of  passion 
and  ambition,  might  yield  to  the  temptation  to  secure 
for  himself  a  life  of  ease  and  pleasure  by  a  single  des- 
perate act ;  but  for  an  old  man,  with  the  best  of  his 
life  gone,  with  all  the  hard-earned  fruit  of  respect  and 
confidence  safely  garnered,  to  throw  it  all  away,  and 
to  pass  the  short  remnant  of  his  days  under  the  stigma 
of  a  thief — that,  indeed,  it  is  hard  to  explain.  One 
thing  you  would  most  surely  find,  I  think,  if  you 
could  know  all  the  circumstances  ;  and  that  is,  that 
he  had  stood  firmly  so  long,  had  resisted  temptation 
so  successfully,  had  grown  so  old  in  honesty,  that  he 
had  come  to  think  caution  needless — to  think  that  an 
old  man  and  a  Christian  minister  was  past  the  danger 
of  temptation.  He  found,  to  his  sorrow,  that  neither 
age  nor  priestly  station  could  supply  the  place  of 
watching  and  prayer. 

Just  here  it  ought  to  be  said  that,  when  the  apostle 
speaks  of  falling,  he  does  not  merely  mean  gross  vio- 
lations of  honor  or  of  law.  His  word  includes  all 
kinds  of  lapses  from  the  standard  of  Christian  char- 
acter. 

To  go  back,  then,  I  repeat  that  a  power  of  delusion 
lurks  in  the  very  circumstances  which  seem  to  favor 


Caution  and  Comfort  for  the   Tempted,     2 1 5 

firm  standing.  There  are  always  those  who  sneer  at 
the  suggestion  of  the  human  heart's  deceitfulness  and 
weakness.  Such  an  one  will  say,  ''True  manhood  is  safe 
from  the  danger  of  a  fall.  My  sense  of  manly  honor 
and  dignity  will  be  an  effectual  safeguard  against  the 
meanness  of  such  moral  lapses.  As  a  man^  it  is  im- 
possible that  I  should  descend  to  such  depths."  Alas, 
alas !  manhood,  with  all  its  dignity  and  self-reliance, 
is  not  to  be  trusted  too  far,  if  Paul  speaks  the  truth. 
He  tells  us  here  that  temptation  is  humatt,  peculiar 
to  man's  nature  (for  that  is  one  meaning  of  the  word 
rendered  here  "common  to  man.")  Poor  human 
nature,  at  its  best  estate,  is  in  its  very  essence  suscep- 
tible of  temptation,  and  by  its  very  conditions  exposed 
to  temptation.  It  is  manhood  that  is  assailed.  It  is 
in  manhood  that  the  weakness  lies  enfolded.  Nay,  it 
is  in  the  very  self-reliance  and  assurance  of  manhood 
that  the  danger  lies.  Humanity,  as  suchy  is  exposed 
to  temptation,  and  in  danger  from  temptation  ;  and 
hence  the  prayer  of  humanity,  the  world's  model  of 
prayer,  closes  with  the  petition,  "  Lead  us  not  into 
temptation,  but  deliver  us  from  evil,"  as  though  it 
would  leave  the  petitioner  with  the  thought  that  while 
he  is  ennobled  by  being  a  son  of  God,  with  the  dear 
privilege  of  saying,  "  Our  Father,"  he  is  not  to  forget 
that  he  is  a  weak  and  fallible  man  in  a  sinful  world. 

This  power  of  delusion  lies  in  the  most  familiar 
things. 

There,  for  instance,  is  worship.  A  man  naturally 
thinks  that  if  there  is  any  place  in  the  world  where 
he    is   safe  from  temptation,   it  is  in  church,    under 


2i6  Faith  and  Character. 

the  sound  of  sacred  anthems  and  holy  truths,  and  in 
the  atmosphere  of  prayer.  And  yet  it  is  over  the 
church  door  that  God  thinks  it  needful  to  write  a 
pointed  caution,  telling  church-goers  that  it  is  quite 
possible  for  them,  even  amid  all  the  holy  associations 
of  a  spiritual  sacrifice,  to  offer  the  sacrifice  of  a  fool. 
The  song  which  is  meant  to  kindle  devotion  may  exert 
only  a  sensuous  charm,  and  the  mind  of  the  wor- 
shipper be  absorbed  by  its  art,  to  the  neglect  of  its 
w^orship.  He  may  be  thinking  of  the  beautiful  periods 
of  the  form  of  prayer,  instead  of  on  his  needs  and  fol- 
lies and  infirmities  which  the  prayer  is  bearing  up  to 
the  throne  of  grace.  He  may  make  of  his  admiration 
for  the  sermon,  a  buckler  which  shall  turn  the  arrow 
shot  at  his  conscience.  He  may  be  lulled  into  self- 
deception  and  into  self-complacency  by  the  ready  re- 
sponse of  his  nature  to  the  sentiment  of  worship.  I 
have  often  been  impressed  with  the  suggestion  of 
this  danger  which  appears  in  that  sublime  Christian 
chant,  the  *'Te  Deum."  Closely  following  that 
magnificent  outburst  of  praise,  '*  Day  by  day  we  mag- 
nify Thee  ;  and  we  worship  Thy  name  ever,  world 
without  end  " — comes  the  prayer  :  "  Vouchsafe,  O 
Lord,  to  keep  us  this  day  without  sin."  It  seems  like 
a  sudden  letting  down  from  the  very  atmosphere  of 
heaven  to  the  dark,  dangerous  region  of  earthly  sin. 
And  yet,  in  this  very  thing,  it  is  true  to  the  spirit  of 
the  Bible.  All  through  that  Book  the  two  go  together 
— man  in  the  image  of  God,  and  man  fallen  ;  man  ca- 
pable of  adoration  and  of  communion  with  God,  and 
of  the  high,  rapt  emotions  of  worship,  and  man  sus- 


Caution  and  Comfort  for  the  Tempted.     217 

ceptible  to  temptation,  the  subject  of  the  concen- 
trated wiles  of  the  kingdom  of  darkness.  And  so  in 
the  glorious  chant,  he  is  stopped  in  the  full  current 
of  his  praise,  and  reminded  that  he  is  still  a  sinful 
man  in  a  sinful  world. 

There  are  the  holy  ties  of  family  affection.  Men 
naturally  think  they  are  safe  from  temptation  in  the 
sweet  retirement  and  innocent  interchange  of  the  do- 
mestic circle.  And  yet  we  have  all  known  a  father's 
or  a  mother's  love  to  degenerate  into  idolatry  ;  a  pa- 
rent's just  caution  and  wise  authority  to  give  way  to 
hurtful  indulgence.  It  has  been  but  too  common  that 
a  man's  honest  pride  in  his  family,  and  his  desire  that 
they  should  appear  in  all  things  as  well  as  their  neigh- 
bors, have  led  him  to  wink  at  extravagance,  and  some- 
times, alas,  to  compromise  his  honesty  to  enable  his 
household  to  keep  up  appearances. 

There  are  beauty  and  taste — good  and  pure  things 
in  themselves.  The  man  who  truly  loves  beauty 
shares  his  love  with  God  ;  and  yet,  in  this  very  epistle, 
we  may  discover  how  sin  made  beauty  its  ally ;  how, 
in  that  lovely  city  of  Corinth,  taste  and  cidture  made 
themselves  ministers  of  corruption,  and  clothed  the 
foulness  of  Paganism  with  a  charm  which  overcame 
the  holy  eloquence  of  Paul,  Apollos,  and  Peter. 

Again,  there  is  strictness.     A  man  never  thinks  he 

is  standing  more  safely  than  when  he  plants  himself 

upon   severe    self-discipline,   the   inexorable   curbing 

of  his  natural  inclinations,  the  closest  and  strictest 

regulation  of  all  the  details  of  his  life.     And  all  this 

is  well,  only  there  were  those  who  did  this,  in   our 
10 


2i8  Faith  and  Character. 

Lord's  time,  who  tithed  mint  and  anise  and  cummin, 
and  yet  strangely  overlooked  some  weighty  matters 
of  the  law,  such  as  judgment,  mercy,  and  faith,  and 
who  were  called  by  a  hard  name  by  the  gentle  Christ 
himself.  And  Paul,  in  his  letter  to  the  Ephesians, 
while  he  urges  circumspection  in  the  Christian  life, 
and  that  w^th  great  minuteness  of  detail,  says, 
''See  how  ye  walk  circumspectly;"  be  circumspect 
in  your  very  circumspection.  See  to  it  that  you  have 
a  rule,  but  be  careful  also  that  you  have  the  best 
rule. 

So  we  might  go  on,  taking  every  influence  or  set 
of  influences  under  which  men  w^ould  seem  to  be 
most  safe,  and  we  should  find  that  in  them  all  lurks 
the  danger  of  a  fall ;  that  men  stand  on  no  ground  so 
high,  so  safe,  or  so  sacred,  that  they  do  not  need  the 
apostle's  caution,  ''Let  him  that  thinketh  he  stand- 
eth,  take  heed  lest  he  fall." 

But  when  men  fall,  no  excuse  is  more  frequently  on 
their  lips  than  this  :  "It  was  unavoidable.  I  could 
not  help  it.  The  temptation  was  exceptional  and 
was  beyond  my  strength."  This  excuse  is  squarely 
met  by  the  text  with  our  second  truth,  namely,  that 
no  man  need  fall ;  and  that  because  every  tempta- 
tion is  controlled  by  God,  who  will  not  suffer  it  to  go 
beyond  His  children's  ability  to  resist  it.  "  There 
hath  no  temptation  taken  you  but  such  as  is  com- 
mon to  man."  Let  us  not  be  misled  by  this  word 
"  common."  It  is  not  used  in  the  sense  in  which  we  say 
a  thing  is  of  common  occurrence,  or  in  common  use. 
It   docs  not   mean  that   all   men   are  tempted  in  the 


Caution  and  Comfort  for  the    Tempted.     219 

same  way,  or  that  one  form  of  temptation  is  as  com- 
mon  as  another.     The   passage  is,    literally,   ''there 
hath  no  temptation  taken  you  but  such  as  is  human:' 
And  it  carries  with  it  two  ideas.    First,  th^it  temptation 
is  peculiar  to  humanity  as  such,  so  that  no  man  dif- 
fers from  his  fellow-man  in  being  tempted,  and,  second, 
that  temptation  is  adapted  by  God  to  man's  strength. 
God  will  not  suffer  him  to  be  tempted  above  that  he 
is  able,  but  will,  with  the  temptation,  also  make  away 
to  escape,  that  he  may  be  able  to  bear  it.     So  that  no 
man  is  exceptional  in  the  matter  of  temptation.     He 
is  tempted  like  other  men  because  he  is  a  man,  and 
his  peculiar  form  of  temptation  does  not  excuse  him 
for  yielding,  because  it  does  not  come  from  any  higher 
or  different  source  from  other  men's  temptations,  and 
is  no  more  severe  than,  with  God's  help,  he  can  bear. 
No  "  supernatural  soliciting  "  selects  a  man  here  and 
there,  and  sweeps  him  resistlessly  off  his  feet.     There 
are,  indeed,  elements  wrought  into  man's  very  consti- 
tution, whose  nature  it  is  to  take  fire  at  appropriate 
contact  ;  but  then  it  is  that  very  nature  with  those  in- 
flammable elements  in  it  which  Christ  is  interested  to 
redeem  and  to  save.     It  is  that  very  nature  which  is 
the  object  of  the  whole  scheme  of  divine  education 
and  discipline.     And  so   Paul  can  say  to  the  Corin- 
thians and  to  us,  you  are  not  subject  to  these  tempta- 
tions as  to  some  blind,  brute  force,  operating  by  its 
own  natural  law,  like  the  downward  plunge  of  a  Nia- 
gara.    Temptation  works  under  God's  law.     Its  pres- 
sure is  accurately  gauged  by  divine  wisdom.     The 
whole  matter  is  summed  up  in  the  little  story  of  the 


220  FaitJi  ajid  CJiaracter. 

lad  whose  father  was  laying  package  after  package 
upon  his  extended  arms,  when  a  playmate,  fearing 
his  load  was  growing  too  heavy,  said,  *'  Don't  you 
think  you've  got  as  much  as  you  can  bear  ?  "  "  Never 
mind,"  was  the  reply,  "father  knows  how  much  I 
can  bear."  That  is  the  fact  which  takes  away  the 
common  excuse  for  falling  ;  "  the  temptation  was  too 
heavy."  If,  indeed,  a  man  takes  matters  into  his  own 
hands,  and  goes  into  temptation,  instead  of  waiting 
for  temptation  to  take  him,  then  I  cannot  answer  for 
him.  In  most  cases  it  will  be  very  little  that  he  is 
able  to  bear.  But  that  is  not  the  case  contemplated 
in  the  text.  A  child  of  God,  clad  in  God's  armor, 
and  wielding  God's  weapons,  vv'ho  meets  an  ApoUyon 
bestriding  his  path  towards  heaven,  knows  in  advance 
that  he  need  not  go  back  one  step  except  he  choose. 
He  knows  that  that  enemy  is  one  that  he  can  conquer. 
If  it  were  not  so,  the  enemy  would  not  be  there. 
God  could  not  suffer  an  invincible  foe  to  assail  you 
without  being  unfaithful  to  you  ;  for  he  called  you 
into  His  heavenly  kingdom  ;  the  kingdom  of  strength 
and  purity  and  moral  victory  ;  and  to  call  you,  and 
then  to  oppose  to  you  a  temptation  too  heavy  for 
your  strength,  would  be  like  your  inviting  a  child  to 
your  house,  and  then  locking  the  door  in  his  face. 
'*  But  God  is  faithful,  who  will  not  suffer  you  to  be 
tempted  above  that  ye  are  able."  He  is  faithful  to 
His  own  promises  such  as  these  :  "Call  upon  Me  in 
the  day  of  trouble,  I  will  deliver  thee."  "  When  thou 
passest  through  the  waters  I  will  be  with  thee  ;  when 
thou   walkest    through   the    fire   thou    shalt    not   be 


Caution  and  Comfort  for  the   Tempted.      221 

burned."  "I  also  will  keep  thee  from  the  hour  of 
temptation  which  shall  come  upon  all  the  world." 
*'  The  Lord  knoweth  how  to  deliver  the  godly  out  of 
temptations." 

He  is  faithful  to  the  promise  of  his  own  past  deal- 
ings. The  Christian  who  is  sorely  tempted  to-day, 
may  refresh  his  faith  with  the  stories  of  Moses  and 
Joseph,  of  Job  and  Elijah.  As  he  is  linked  to  them 
by  like  passions  and  common  infirmities,  so  he  is 
drawn  with  them  into  the  shadow  of  the  same  love 
which  sheltered  them  from  the  power  of  temptation. 
"The  almighty  power  of  God,"  says  a  quaint  old 
English  divine,  "is  engaged  for  the  saints'  defence  : 
God  brought  Israel  out  of  Egypt  with  a  high  hand  ; 
but  did  he  set  them  down  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Red  Sea  to  find  and  force  their  way  to  Canaan  by 
their  own  policy  or  power  ?  When  He  had  opened 
the  iron  gate  of  their  house  of  bondage,  and  brought 
them  into  the  open  fields,  did  he  vanish  as  the  angel 
from  Peter  when  out  of  prison  ?  No.  As  a  man  car- 
ries his  son,  so  the  Lord  bare  them  in  all  the  way 
they  went.  This  doth  lively  set  forth  the  saints' 
march  to  heaven.  God  brings  a  soul  out  of  spiritual 
Egypt  by  His  converting  grace.  Now  when  the  saint 
is  upon  his  march,  all  the  country  riseth  upon  him. 
How  shall  this  poor  creature  pass  the  pikes  and  get 
safely  by  all  his  enemies'  borders  ?  God  Himself  en- 
folds him  in  the  arm  of  His  everlasting  strength. 
The  power  of  God  is  that  shoulder  on  which  Christ 
carries  his  sheep  home,  rejoicing  all  the  way  he  goes. 
These    everlasting   arms   of    His   strength    are  those 


222  Faith  and  Character. 

eagles'  wings  upon  which  the  saints  are  both  tender- 
ly and  securely  conveyed  to  glory."  ^ 

Thus,  then,  we  find  ourselves  in  the  region  of  the 
third  truth  of  the  text,  namely  : 

There  is  everything  in  the  divine  ordering  of 
temptation  to  prevent  our  falling  and  to  increase  our 
stability  ;  God  will,  with  the  temptation,  make  a  way 
for  your  escape,  that  ye  may  be  able  to  bear  it.  Just 
here  a  new  aspect  of  the  subject  opens.  In  all  the 
previous  part  of  the  text  our  thought  has  been  oc- 
cupied with  the  idea  of  deliverance,  escape  from 
temptation  ;  but  in  these  closing  words,  that  ye  may 
be  able  to  bear  it,  we  come  suddenly  upon  the  sug- 
gestion that  in  God's  economy,  temptation  may  not 
only  be  something  to  escape  from,  but  may  also  serve 
a  positive  purpose  in  the  salutary  discipline  and  the 
strong  maturing  of  God's  children.  For,  if  it  be 
merely  a  thing  to  be  escaped,  why  not  stop  with  the 
word  ''  escape  "  ?  But  here  it  appears  that  by  escape 
God  means  something  else  besides  getting  clear  of  the 
temptation.  The  clear  intimation  is,  that  the  temp- 
tation may  stay  by  us,  and  that  escaping,  in  God's 
sense,  may  consist  in  bearing  it  rightly.  So  that  the 
thought  of  escape  is  complex.  It  does  indeed  imply 
victory  over  the  temptation,  but  it  also  implies  a  lar- 
ger victory  through  the  sustained  conflict  with  the 
temptation  ;  a  victory  which  appears  in  the  general 
toning  up  and  broadening  of  the  whole  character. 
You  go   down   to   the  Battery  some  day  and  hire  a 

'  Gurnall,  "Christian  in  Complete  Armor." 


Caution  and  Comfort  for  the    Tempted.      223 

sail-boat  to  go  to  Sandy  Hook.  And  as  you  look  for 
the  direction  of  the  wind,  you  find  it  blowing  straight 
up  the  Narrows,  and  therefore  dead  against  you.  Do 
you  turn  round  and  go  home,  saying  I  will  defer  my 
sail  till  some  other  day  when  the  wind  shall  be  blow- 
ing the  other  way  ?  Not  if  you  know  anything  about 
boating  ;  for  you  know  that  you  can  trim  your  sail  at 
such  an  angle  as  tp  make  that  very  adverse  wind 
carry  you  to  Sandy  Hook.  You  can  sail  into  the 
very  eye  of  the  wind  ;  and  though  your  boat  lean  over 
under  the  strain  of  your  close-hauled  sheet,  and  the 
water  come  rushing  over  your  gunwale,  you  will 
make  good  headway,  and  rejoice  in  a  sense  of  mas- 
tery over  the  elements,  such  as  never  comes  with  go- 
ing before  the  wind.  Just  so  God  teaches  his  chil- 
dren to  make  temptation  drive  them  tow^ard  heaven. 
Paul  prays  that  the  thorn  in  the  flesh  may  depart 
from  him.  That  is  Paul's  idea  of  escape.  God's 
idea  is  different  and  larger.  The  thorn  shall  not 
subdue  Paul,  but  it  shall  not  depart  from  him.  Paul 
shall  escape  from  it  by  having  it  with  him.  He  shall 
gain  a  grander  victory  by  becoming  a  grander  man 
through  the  torment  of  the  thorn.  That  is  a  figure 
of  speech,  you  say.  Well,  you  and  I  know  that  there 
are  enough  thorns  in  the  flesh  that  are  a  good  deal 
besides  figures  of  speech.  The  experience  is  com- 
mon enough  where  a  child  of  God  is  exposed  to  a 
lifelong  trial,  a  burden  of  some  kind  which  he  can- 
not escape,  but  must  take  it  into  his  life  and  adjust 
his  life  to  it  as  best  he  can.  And  the  burden  brings 
with  it  a  daily  temptation  to  peevishness,  or  to  faith- 


224  Faith  and  Character. 

lessness,  or  to  cowardice,  a  temptation  to  slip  out 
from  under  it  at  any  hazard,  and  to  escape  from  its 
daily,  galling  pressure — duty  or  no  duty.  And  you 
know  how  such  men  and  women  have  found  the  grace 
of  God  all-sufficient  to  convert  that  burden  into  wings 
on  which  they  have  mounted  nearer  to  heaven. 

I  have  seen,  down  by  the  bank  of  a  stream,  a  rock 
which  seemed  to  have  been  placed  at  the  very  point 
where  it  interfered  most  with  the  various  processes 
going  on  round  it.  Because  of  that  rock,  a  tree 
could  not  strike  freely  outward  and  downward  with 
its  roots  ;  the  grass  which  grew  round  it  could  not 
climb  over  it  to  fringe  the  bank  ;  the  river  was  com- 
pelled to  turn  out  of  its  channel.  But  how  quietly 
Nature  took  the  rock  into  those  A'ery  processes,  and 
used  it  to  heighten  the  beauty  of  the  whole  scene. 
The  tree  Avove  round  and  under  it  a  picturesque  net- 
work of  brown  roots,  and  dropped  upon  it  leaves  and 
flickering  shadows  from  above.  The  mosses  and  the 
gray  lichens  crept  up  into  the  hollows  and  crevices, 
and  lined  them  with  velvety  green  and  silver.  The 
stream  used  it  to  break  the  monotony  of  its  flow  with 
an  eddy,  and  its  silence  with  a  ripple.  The  grass 
reached  up  with  its  blades  to  meet  the  mosses,  and 
in  that  spot,  of  all  along  the  bank,  the  idler  and  the 
artist  loved  to  linger. 

Even  so,  many  an  one  has  been  forced  to  incorpo- 
rate with  his  life,  and  to  carry  along  with  him,  day  by 
day,  some  living,  active,  growing  trial  of  patience  ; 
and,  not  only  in  spite  of  it,  but  by  means  of  it,  has 
developed  a  life  at  once  fruitful  and  joyful. 


Caution  and  Comfort  for  the    Tempted.      225 

Such  have  quietly  accepted  the  rankling  of  the 
thorn,  the  daily  pressure  of  the  load ;  and  patience, 
and  gentleness,  and  steady  persistence  and  courage 
have  bloomed  in  their  character  until  their  lives  are  a 
continual  fragrance.  They  have  escaped  the  tempta- 
tion by  transmuting  it  into  power.  Through  such  an 
experience  as  this,  and  only  thus,one  learns  the  mean- 
ing of  that  apparent  paradox  of  the  Apostle  James  : 
*'My  brethren,  count  it  all  joy  when  ye  fall  into  di- 
vers temptations."  James  himself  states  the  solution 
in  the  next  verse,  '*  Knowing  this  that  the  trial  of 
your  faith  worketh  patience;"  but  something  more 
than  a  statement  is  necessary  to  make  us  understand 
it.  Temptation  is  a  blessing  in  disguise,  and  we 
work  through  the  disguise  to  the  blessing,  only  by 
patient  endurance.  Blessed  is  the  man  that  endureth 
temptation  ;  after  the  endurance,  concealed  for  the 
time  by  the  obstacles  which  call  out  endurance, 
comes  the  crown.  When  he  is  tried,  he  shall  receive 
the  crown  of  life.  The  brow  which  bears  the  crown 
is  crossed  and  wrinkled  with  lines  of  care  and  sor- 
row, but  the  hand  which  is  stretched  out  to  take  it  is 
a  man's  hand,  strong  and  trained  and  deft  through 
long  and  faithful  wielding  of  God's  weapon. 

Here,  then,  we  have  our  lesson  to-day.  I  preach  to 
myself  no  less  than  to  you,  when  I  repeat  the  Apostle's 
words,  ''  Let  him  that  thinketh  he  standeth,  take 
heed  lest  he  fall."  I  say  to  you,  on  the  authority  of 
Him  who  knew  what  was  in  man,  the  higher  your 
position,  the  more  secure  your  reputation,  the  more 
numerous  the  circumstances  which  seem    to    insure 


226  Faith  and  CJiaracter, 

you  against  moral  or  spiritual  shipwreck,  the  more 
need  you  have  to  watch  and  pray  ;  the  more  need 
to  look  out  for  the  temptations  which  lurk  about 
your  strongest  safeguards,  and  at  those  very  points 
at  which  you  think  the  enemy  will  not  think  it  worth 
while  to  shoot  his  arrows. 

Amid  such  dangers,  lurking  at  your  very  firesides 
and  around  your  very  altars  of  worship,  you  "will  be 
safe  only  as  you  shall  put  your  life  w^holly  and  im- 
plicitly into  God's  hands.  You  need  not  fall,  great 
as  is.  the  danger  of  your  falling  ;  but  you  will  stand 
only  as  you  shall  enlist  God's  faithfulness  on  your  be- 
half. Oh,  never  forget  this  truth,  that  no  temptation 
is  too  strong  for  God's  child.  It  might,  it  would 
surely  be,  if  the  matter  lay  simply  between  him  and 
temptation  ;  but  when  God's  faithfulness  and  God's 
power  come  into  the  question,  that  changes  the  whole 
aspect  of  the  case  ;  and  whatever  a  fallen  Christian 
may  be  able  to  say  in  his  own  defence,  this  excuse,  at 
least,  that  the  temptation  was  too  mighty  for  his 
strength,  is  forever  taken  out  of  his  mouth  by  the 
simple  answer,  ''God  is  faithful,  and  you  might  have 
had  His  strength."  And,  remember,  too,  that  God's 
deliverances  from  temptation  come  when  they  are 
needed,  and  not  before.  Many  a  young  Christian 
gets  frightened  at  the  beginning  of  his  journey.  He 
says  :  **  I  am  afraid  I  shall  deny  my  Lord,  and  dis- 
grace my  profession  ;  "  and  he  begins  to  imagine  cer- 
tain possible  emergencies,  and  to  wonder  how  he 
shall  extricate  himself,  and,  seeing  no  way,  he  works 
himself  up  into  a  state  of  great  distress.      He  may 


Caution  and  Comfort  for  the   Tempted.      22^ 

quiet  his  heart.  God  does  not  promise  the  way  of 
escape  until  the  temptation  shall  have  come  ;  but  then^ 
He  says,  with  the  temptation  He  will  make  a  way. 
There  is  a  place  on  the  Hudson  River  where,  as  you 
sail,  you  seem  to  be  entirely  hemmed  in  with  hills. 
The  boat  drives  straight  on  toward  a  rocky  wall,  and 
it  seems  as  though  it  must  either  stop  or  be  dashed  to 
pieces  ;  but,  just  as  you  come  within  the  shadow  of 
the  mountain,  a  little  opening  suddenly  discloses  it- 
self, and  the  boat  is  headed  into  it,  and  passes  out  into 
one  of  the  grandest  bays  in  the  river.  So  it  is  with 
temptation.  You  are  not  to  seek  it,  not  to  enter  into 
it  ;  God  promises  no  way  out  in  such  a  case.  But  if 
it  meets  you  on  your  heavenward  journey,  you  are  to 
go  straight  on,  though  you  see  no  way  out.  The  w^ay 
w411  reveal  itself  in  due  time,  if  you  only  keep  on  ; 
and  remember,  that,  as  in  the  river,  the  beautiful  bay 
lies  just  round  the  frowning  rock,  so,  often  your 
sweetest  and  best  experience  of  life  lies  just  behind 
your  most  menacing  temptation. 

Let  us  not  deceive  ourselves,  brethren,  with  any 
fond  dream  of  some  coming  time  when  we  can  relax 
our  vigilance,  and  walk  with  tranquil  security  the  rest 
of  the  way  to  heaven.  It  will  not  come.  The  enemy 
will  dog  the  path  to  the  end.  It  has  seemed  to  me 
as  if  the  progress  of  a  human  soul  through  this  world 
was  as  that  of  one  entrusted  with  a  fragile  and  costly 
vase,  to  carry  it  to  a  king  in  a  distant  city,  over  a  road 
full  of  rocks  and  pitfalls,  and  with  a  succession  of  ene- 
mies starting  up  here  and  there  and  striking  at  his 
treasure.     It  is  a  wonder  if  he  reach  the  city  with  his 


228  Faith  and  Character. 

vase  unbroken.  Yes,  it  is  a  wonder,  but  it  is  a  won- 
der of  grace.  It  is  a  wonder  which  reflects  no  glory 
on  man,  but  rather  upon  that  infinite  faithfuhiess 
which  keeps  its  children  as  the  apple  of  the  eye,  and 
bears  them  as  on  eagle's  wings  through  the  waste, 
and  up  to  the  city  of  God, — scarred  and  bruised,  in- 
deed, but  presented  blameless  before  the  presence 
of  the  King  of  kings  with  exceeding  joy. 


TASTE   AND    HOLINESS. 


PHILIPPIANS   IV. 

(8)  Finally,  brethren,  whatsoever  things  are  true,  whatsoever 

things  are  honest,  whatsoever  things  are  just,  whatsoever 
things  are  pure,  whatsoever  things  are  lovely,  whatso- 
ever things  are  of  good  report ;  if  there  be  any  virtue, 
and  if  there  be  any  praise,  think  on  these  things. 

(9)  Those  things,  which  ye  have  both  learned,  and  received, 

and  heard,  and  seen  in  me,  do  :  and  the  God  of  peace 
shall  be  with  you. 


XIII. 
TASTE   AND   HOLINESS. 

At  the  close  of  the  third  chapter  of  this  epistle, 
Paul  says  :  '*  We  are  citizens  of  heaven."  We  live  in 
this  world  as  those  who  are  natives  of  another  coun- 
try, bearing  our  national  mark  and  speaking  our  na- 
tive tongue,  and  looking  for  the  coming  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  to  restore  us  to  our  true  home. 

The  exhortations  of  the  next  chapter  grow  directly 
out  of  this.  *'  If  you  are  thus  citizens  of  heaven,  stand 
fast  in  your  loyalty  ;  be  at  peace  among  yourselves  ; 
rejoice  ;  be  forbearing  to  one  another  ;  be  not  unduly 
burdened  with  the  cares  of  this  world  ; "  and  so  the 
apostle  works  on  toward  a  close  which  he  strikes  in 
the  word  *'  finally,"  and  runs  into  a  strain  of  appeal 
which,  at  the  same  time,  sums  up  his  previous  exhor- 
tations :  *'  finally,  whatsoever  things  are  true,  honest, 
just,  pure,  lovely,  of  good  report,  whatever  there  is 
anywhere  that  is  virtuous  or  beautiful  or  praise- 
worthy, think  on  those  things,  and  act  out  your 
thinking  in  your  life.  Thus  the  God  of  peace  shall 
be  with  you." 

** Think  on  these  things."  That  is  more  than 
merely  to  remej7iber  them,  or  to  muse  over  them.     It  is 


232  Faith  and  Character, 

rather  to  **  exercise  the  faculties  upon  them,"  to  ap- 
ply the  mind  to  drawing  out  their  lessons  ;,  so  to  think 
of  them  as  to  get  out  of  them  all  that  can  be  turned 
to  use  for  growth  in  holiness,  and  for  practical  use- 
fulness and  happiness  in  the  world. 

Think  on  these  lovely,  good,  pure,  true  things.  It 
would  seem  then  that  w^e  are  responsible  for  our 
thinking.  Paul  urges  his  brethren  to  do,  but  he  puts 
the  thinking,  pondering,  meditating,  first.  And  holy 
men  long  before  Paul  had  discerned  that  men  are  ac- 
countable for  their  thinking  ;  else  Solomon  would  not 
have  said,  *'  Keep  thy  heart  with  all  diligence  ;"  else 
David  would  not  have  prayed,  ''  Search  me,  O  God, 
and  know  my  heart  ;  try  me  and  know  my  thoughts." 
Else  Solomon,  again,  would  not  have  written,  ''The 
thoughts  of  the  wicked  are  an  abomination  unto  the 
Lord."  Too  many  persons  assume  that  they  can 
have  no  control  over  their  thoughts.  They  seem  to 
feel  that  their  mind  is  like  a  common  canal,  through 
which  the  tide  must  needs  wash  whatever  is  thrown 
into  it.  That  is  not  the  teaching  of  God's  Word,  nor 
do  they  admit  the  principle  in  their  studies,  for  in- 
stance. Their  masters  in  science  or  history  or  com- 
position tell  them  that  they  must  learn  to  command 
and  concentrate  and  arrange  their  thoughts  ;  and 
they  find  that  practice  and  resolution  enable  them  to 
do  so.  Why  should  not  the  same  practice  and  the 
same  resolution,  especially  with  the  aid  of  the  divine 
Spirit,  enable  them  to  regulate  what  good  or  evil 
passes  through  their  minds,  and  to  exclude  that  which 
is  unholy  and  impure,  and  to  discipline  the  mind  into 


Taste  and  Holiness,  233 

exercising  itself  habitually  upon  what  is  true  and  just 
and  lovely  ? 

In  this  exhortation,  then,  Paul  lays  down  a  Chris- 
tian duty,  to  have  the  mind  occupied  with  good  and 
beautiful  things.  But  it  is  to  be  observed  that  these 
words  may  easily  be  wrested  from  their  strictly 
Christian  construction.  There  are  worldly  men  who 
do  not  believe  a  word  of  the  Bible,  who,  nevertheless, 
would  indorse  every  word  of  this  exhortation:  '^  Think 
on  true  things,  venerable  things,  just  things,  pure 
things,  lovely  things."  Surely  this  Paul  has  a  glim- 
mer of  common-sense  and  true  appreciativeness  with 
all  his  fanaticism  !  Think  on  these  things  !  Why, 
that  is  just  what  I  believe,  that  a  man  ought  to  have 
and  to  cherish  pure  and  ennobling  thoughts.  Above 
all  things,  that  he  ought  to  think  on  what  is  true. 
That  is  the  ground  upon  which  ninety-nine  hun- 
dredths of  the  attacks  on  Christianity  are  justified. 
The  assailants  claim  that  they  are  pushing  away  false- 
hood, and  giving  the  world  truth  in  its  place.  As  a 
late  writer  has  said  of  certain  skeptics,  ''they  want 
the  naked  soul  of  truth  ;  they  penetrate  through  form 
and  exterior  to  pluck  it  out ;  they  put  aside  all  cover- 
ing to  get  at  the  core,  the  solid  divine  particle  itself  of 
truth.  Dogmas  are  husks  ;  creeds  are  distortions  ; 
everything  is  seen  through,  nothing  is  final.  He  re- 
jects the  outside  ;  he  peels  off  coating  after  coating 
to  come  to  something  solid. "^  As  to  beauty — what- 
soever things  are  lovely — no  one  will  talk  more  en- 

*  Canon  Mozley. 


234  Faith  and  Character. 

thusiastically  about  it  than  an  atheist.  You  find  the 
strictest  insistence  on  the  laws  of  taste  among  some 
whose  contempt  for  religion  is  unconcealed  ;  you  hear 
the  loudest  talk  about  honor  among  duellists  who 
violate  the  divine  command  against  murder;  you  find 
absolute  ferocity  of  character  among  those  whose  ear 
is  jarred  by  the  slightest  discord,  and  their  eye  of- 
fended by  a  hairbreadth  variation  from  the  lines  of 
symmetry  ;  you  find  extreme  polish  of  manners  often 
grafted  upon  heartless  brutality.  And  yet  such 
people  would  indorse  Paul's  \vords,  taking  them  by 
themselves. 

It  is  quite  needless  to  say  that  Paul  w^ould  be  far 
from  feeling  honored  by  any  such  indorsements  as 
these.  Such  thoughts  of  beauty  and  truth  as  should 
be  compatible  w4th  dispositions  or  deeds  like  those  I 
have  cited,  would  awaken  only  his  disgust.  Like  the 
spirit  over  which  the  sons  of  Sceva  pronounced  the 
name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  w^hom  Paul  preached,  he 
would  have  asked,  "Who  are  ye  ?" 

It  is  quite  evident,  and  it  must  be  held  in  mind  as 
the  very  basis  of  our  discussion,  that  Paul  is  speaking 
here  of  true  and  just  and  lovely  things  on  their  moral 
and  spiritual  side,  and  not  on  their  artistic  and  taste- 
ful side.  Not  that  he  is  insensible  to  the  charms  of 
beauty  and  nobility,  however  displayed,  but  that  he  is 
thinking  and  speaking  here  of  things  that  are  pure 
in  the  sight  of  God  ;  true  to  God's  standard  of  truth  ; 
beautiful  with  the  beauty  of  the  Lord. 

I  wish  to  speak  to-day  of  the  practical  issue  between 
beauty  and  taste  in  themselves  considered,  and  these 


Taste  and  Holiness.  235 

same  things  considered  in  their  moral  and  spiritual  re- 
lations. I  say  '*  the  issue,"  for  there  is  a  very  danger- 
ous and  a  very  subtle  issue  between  these  two.  I 
have  already  foreshadowed  it  in  speaking  of  those 
who,  with  intense  love  and  keen  perception  of  beauty, 
even  in  some  of  its  moral  relations,  unite  habitual 
disregard  for  the  law  of  God.  But  I  am  thinking  of 
it  not  so  much  in  this  grosser  form,  as  in  the  form  in 
which  it  creeps  stealthily  into  modern  Christian 
society,  and  leads  not  a  few  practically  to  believe 
that  religion  consists  in  good  taste  ;  that  beauty  is  a 
substitute  for  holiness,  and  elegance  for  character, 
and  propriety  for  duty,  and  contemplation  of  what  is 
noble  and  majestic  for  worship,  and  which  resolves 
the  "  moral  sense  "  into  love  of  the  beautiful.  If  this  be 
true,  it  is  time  that  the  Spirit  of  truth  should  search 
such  hearts  as  with  a  lighted  candle,  and  should  teach 
them  the  true  meaning  of  the  words,  ''  if  there  be 
any  virtue,  and  if  there  be  any  praise,  think  on  these 
things." 

This  danger  comes  always  with  advancing  civiliza- 
tion. The  moment  that  the  rough,  pioneer  work  is 
done,  and  society  begins  to  crystallize,  life  begins 
to  develop  on  its  aesthetic  side  ;  the  refinements  and 
amenities  of  culture  make  their  way  into  social  inter- 
course, and  the  appliances  of  culture,  books,  pictures, 
music,  and  their  whole  beautiful  train,  come  in  to  do 
their  ennobling  and  refining  work.  And  in  older 
communities  there  grows  up  a  large  class  who  think 
a  great  deal  on  these  things  ;  who  give  a  great  deal 
of  time  to  them,  and  spend  a  great  deal  of  money 


236  Faith  and  Character. 

upon  them.  These  are,  in  many  senses,  real  benefac- 
tors to  society.  They  do  a  good  work  in  elevating 
its  taste,  and  in  establishing  true  standards  of  taste. 
The  man  who  makes  a  common  article  of  furniture 
beautiful — a  chair,  or  a  lamp — and  sends  it  into  the 
homes  of  the  community  ;  the  man  who  makes  accu- 
rate copies  of  the  great  standard  works  of  art,  and 
puts  them  within  reach  of  the  poorest,  is,  so  far  forth, 
doing  God's  work.  For,  let  it  be  always  remembered 
that  God's  word  nowhere  says  or  implies  anything 
tending  to  depreciate  beauty.  Those  wretched  per- 
versions of  the  Bible  and  of  Christianity  which  dedi- 
cated to  God  the  ugliest  and  barest  structure  in  the 
community,  and  which  assumed  that  the  crucifixion 
of  the  sense  of  beauty  was  one  of  the  most  accept- 
able sacrifices  that  could  be  offered  at  His  throne, 
are  things  for  which  men  and  not  God  were  responsi- 
ble. I  shall  be  glad  if  you  will  find  for  me  a  book 
which  shows  a  keener  sense  of  beauty  and  majesty 
and  grace  and  fitness,  which  introduces  one  to  more 
grand  and  beautiful  scenes,  or  which  treats  its  themes 
with  more  sublimity  and  with  a  finer  play  of  the  im- 
agination than  the  Bible.  See,  for  instance,  what  a 
sense  of  the  beauty  of  nature  pervades  the  Psalms. 
See  how  God  Himself  gave  expression  to  the  artistic 
sense  in  the  tabernacle  and  in  the  temple  ;  and  in 
Paul's  writings,  you  will  find  all  sorts  of  pictures  and 
figures  hidden  away  in  single  words,  which  show  how 
sensitive  he  was  to  the  charm  of  the  same  things 
which  gratified  the  taste  and  revealed  the  skill  of  the 
beauty-loving  Greek — the  stately  palaces  of  Athens 


Taste  ajtd  Holiness.  237 

or  Corinth,  or  the  manly  grace  and  symmetry  which 
appeared  in  the  race-course  or  in  the  arena. 

All  this  is  true.  But  everything  which  develops 
itself  apart  from  God  and  from  God's  moral  law,  de- 
velops a  danger  corresponding  to  its  departure  ;  and 
beauty  and  fitness  and  symmetry,  in  themselves  con- 
sidered, have  not  so  much  of  the  divine  in  them, 
that  they  form  an  exception  to  this  rule.  On  the 
contrary,  the  very  charm  of  the  beautiful,  which 
seems  to  raise  it  so  far  above  the  evil  and  sordid- 
ness  of  earth,  makes  it  the  most  dangerous  ally  of 
evil  the  moment  it  is  divorced  from  God.  Greece 
is  our  standing  example  of  this  truth.  It  is  a  histo- 
rian who  would  be  accounted  very  far  from  orthodox 
who  says,  *'  In  no  other  period  of  the  world's  history 
w^as  the  admiration  of  beauty  in  all  its  forms  so  pas- 
sionate or  so  universal.  It  colored  the  whole  moral 
teaching  of  the  time,  and  led  the  chief  moralists  to 
regard  virtue  simply  as  the  highest  kind  of  supersen- 
sual  beauty."  ^  And  this  same  historian  tells  us  that 
Greek  public  opinion  acquiesced  without  scandal  in 
an  almost  boundless  indulgence  of  sinful  pleasures  ; 
that  nameless  vices  prevailed  among  the  most  illustri- 
ous men,  and  that  licentiousness  was  a  recognized 
minister  of  worship. 

Now,  when  we  go  back  to  the  Bible,  we  find  beauty 
everywhere  the  handmaid  of  holiness.  It  is  never 
contemplated  as  an  end  unto  itself.  The  Bible  refuses 
to  divorce  beauty  from  rectitude.      Even,   as  in  the 

'  Lecky,  "  History  of  European  Morals." 


23S  Faith  and  Character. 

old  tabernacle,  the  most  costly  and  beautiful  work 
was  reserved  for  the  holiest  place  of  all,  the  place 
where  God  specially  manifested  Himself,  for  the  ark 
of  the  covenant,  the  symbol  which  most  vividly  figured 
the  divine  presence — even  so,  the  higher  the  develop- 
ment of  beauty  or  sublimity  in  the  Bible,  the  nearer 
it  brings  us  to  God.  Take,  for  example,  the  weird, 
mysterious  grandeur  of  Ezekiel's  vision  ;  it  is  a  vision 
of  the  Eternal  Himself.  Take  what  is  perhaps  the 
most  wonderful  poetic  flight  in  all  literature — the 
prayer  of  the  prophet  Habakkuk — again  it  is  a  vision 
of  the  Almighty.  Hear  the  Psalmist  discoursing  of 
the  glory  of  the  starry  heavens.  How  exquisite  his 
imagery  :  the  w^hole  heaven  as  a  chorus  of  voices 
proclaiming  the  glory  of  God,  the  days  and  the  nights 
telling  each  other  of  His  power  and  majesty  in  a  won- 
drous speech  of  their  own  unheard  by  mortal  ears  ; 
their  line  going  out  to  all  the  earth,  the  heavens 
everywhere  spanning  it  and  everywhere  preaching 
the  same  divine  sermon  ;  the  sim  coming  forth  from 
the  pavilions  of  the  east  as  a  bridegroom  from  his 
chamber  ;  and  yet  all  this  pomp  of  diction  is  only  to 
prepare  the  way  for  a  panegyric  upon  the  law  of 
God  ;  all  the  beauty  of  the  starry  heavens  serves  the 
poet  to  illustrate  the  perfection,  the  surety,  the  recti- 
tude, the  purity,  the  illuminating  power  of  the  stat- 
utes of  the  Lord.  Saul  had  saved  fine  cattle  from 
-A-gag's  herds  to  sacrifice  to  God.  It  would  have  been 
a  most  princely  and  impressive  sacrifice.  None  the 
less  does  his  disobedience  cost  him  his  kingdt)m. 
Jezebel  was  beautiful  ;  her  beauty  docs  not  palliate 


Taste  and  Holiness.  239 

her  crimes.  Babylon  was  magnificent,  but  what 
cared  God  for  temples  or  hanging  gardens,  gigantic 
walls  or  stately  bridges,  when  the  vessels  of  His  sanc- 
tuary were  profaned,  and  the  abominations  of  the  peo- 
ple cried  to  heaven  ?  So  the  Bible  insists  throughout 
on  moral  beauty  as  the  highest  type  of  beauty,  uses 
every  lovely  thing  in  nature  and  art  to  emphasize 
that  type,  and  rejects,  with  loathing,  everything, 
however  attractive  otherwise,  which  refuses  that  im- 
press. 

And,  in  the  highest  revelation  of  Himself  which 
God  gave  to  the  world,  the  incarnation  of  Jesus 
Christ,  He  proclaimed,  most  unmistakably,  the  supre- 
macy of  moral  and  spiritual  beauty,  and  its  power  to 
assert  itself  over  the  most  uncongenial  and  hostile 
circumstances.  We  need  not  enter  into  speculations 
(for  they  can  be  nothing  more)  upon  the  personal  ap- 
pearance of  Jesus,  whether  he  was  a  man  of  perfect 
physical  beauty  as  we  love  to  picture  him,  or  one  with 
visage  ^' more  marred  than  any  man."  Under  all 
such  trilling  lies  the  patent  fact  that  the  outward  life 
of  Jesus  was  habitually  detached  from  circumstances 
of  beauty  or  majesty.  He  drew  no  helps  from  that 
artistic  atmosphere  which  enspheres  and  glorifies  not 
a  few  inferior  men.  He  was  poor,  and  poverty  is  not 
beautiful.  He  was  the  friend  and  associate  of  the 
poor,  and  much  of  his  life  was  in  contact  with  squalor 
and  misery.  He  was  a  man  of  sorrows,  despised  and 
rejected  ot  men.  Take  that  figure  as  it  bends  in 
Gethsemane  in  agony  such  as  never  man  knew  ;  or  as 
it  stands   in   Pilate's  hall,  crowned  with   thorns   and 


240  Faith  and  Character. 

with  shoulders  scarred  with  the  scourge  ;  or  as  it 
toils  under  the  weight  of  the  cross,  or  hangs  between 
two  thieves,  the  very  type  of  physical  agony.  Put 
beside  this  one  of  the  gods  of  Greece,  one  of  those 
lovely  creations  of  a  beauty-worshipping  intellect,  a 
graceful  Mercury  with  winged  feet,  a  sun-crowned 
Apollo,  a  robust  Hercules,  a  majestic  Jove,  and  bid 
the  Greek  look  on  this  crucified  man  of  sorrows,  who 
has  no  beauty  that  he  should  desire  him,  and  worship 
him.  Do  you  wonder  that  the  cross  was  ''foolish- 
ness "  to  the  Greek  ?  And  yet  we  know  that  the 
Greek  was  mistaken  ;  that  there  was  a  deeper  beauty 
which  he  did  not  see — the  beauty  of  character,  which 
has  been  gaining  on  the  world,  rising  above  all  cir- 
cumstances of  poverty,  suffering,  human  contempt, 
and  asserting  itself  to  men  as  the  one  thing  altogether 
lovely.  And  the  same  is  true  of  Christ's  ideals  as  he 
outlined  them  to  his  followers.  You  find  them  in  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount,  ideals  quite  different  from  the 
world's.  The  beautiful,  majestic,  triumphant  men  of 
his  kingdom  are  the  poor  in  spirit,  the  meek,  the 
merciful,  the  mourners  over  moral  evil — all  of  them 
distinguished  by  moral  beauty,  by  beauty  of  charac- 
ter. 

So,  then,  I  say  that,  in  all  our  thought  and  love 
and  pursuit  of  what  is  amiable  and  beautiful,  we  must 
hold  by  the  gospel  stand-point,  or  these  fair  things 
will  delude  us  fearfully. 

Scores  of  illustrations  of  this  delusion  might  easily 
be  cited.  For  instance,  people  are  not  unfrcquent- 
ly  deceived  into  mistaking  a  certain  feeling  of  admi- 


Taste  and  Holiness.  241 

ration  toward  God  as  the  creator  of  the  beauties  of 
nature,  for  genuine  worship.  They  go  out  on  some 
bright  morning,  and  as  their  eye  ranges  over  a  grand 
scene  of  mountain  and  stream  and  forest,  with  the 
pastures  covered  over  with  flocks,  and  the  valleys 
standing  thick  with  corn,  they  think  of  the  power  and 
goodness  of  God,  and  give  themselves  credit  for  be- 
ing qiite  religious  in  entertaining  such  a  thought.  I 
stumbled  the  other  day  upon  the  sad  story^  of  a  mor- 
bid man  of  letters  who  attained  some  notoriety  in  his 
day,  not  only  for  his  gifts,  but  for  his  violent  recoil 
from  the  Christian  faith,  and  here  is  his  idea  of  prayer : 
**  I  had  opened  my  window  and  seated  myself  in  view 
of  the  heavens  to  collect  my  mind  for  the  daily  trib- 
ute of  adoration  to  my  Maker.  The  mere  act  of  di- 
recting my  mind  to  Him,  in  the  presence  of  His  glori- 
ous works,  filled  me  with  an  inexpressible,  though 
tranquil  and  rational  delight.  I  said  to  myself, 
'What  a  glorious  gift  conscious  existence  is  in  itself  ! 
Heaven  must  essentially  consist  in  the  absence  of 
whatever  disturbs  the  quiet  enjoyment  of  that  con- 
sciousness, in  the  intimate  conviction  of  the  presence 
of  God.' "  And  then  he  goes  on  to  tell  the  Deity  that 
He  is  not  to'suppose  Himself  worshipped  in  the  strict 
sense  of  the  word.  ''It  is  long,"  he  says,  "since  I 
have  renounced  the  (to  me)  superstitious  practice  of 
falling  on  my  knees  and  formally  addressing  unto 
Thee  either  praise  or  petition.  I  am,  however,  unin- 
terruptedly in  a  praying  state."  Well  says  the  nar- 
rator, "  The  religious  feeling  that  sur\'eys  nature  sim- 
ply is  weak.     The  mind  expands  and  has  an  idea  of  a 


242  Faith  and  CJiaractcr. 

large  pervading  Being  ;  but  this  Being  has  not  a 
character."  * 

Men  say  it  is  right  to  indulge  their  sense  of  the 
beautiful ;  but  too  often  they  become  possessed  with 
the  idea  that  beauty  in  itself  has  a  moral  value,  and 
therefore  excuse  themselves  for  the  neglect  of  duty 
or  for  indulgence  in  sin,  on  the  plea  of  gratifying  the 
pure  sense  of  the  beautiful.  I  have  known  professing 
Christians  to  lend  the  countenance  of  their  presence 
to  spectacles  that  were  morally  vile,  on  the  ground 
that  they  were  so  beautiful.  Remember  that  the 
sense  of  beauty,  which  is  gratified  through  sin,  is  a 
perverted  sense. 

Or  again,  there  is  danger  of  resting  satisfied  with  a 
life  which  conforms  to  proprieties  merely  ;  of  mistak- 
ing an  elegant  and  orderly  life  for  a  good  life  ;  of 
thinking  that  because  the  life  is  passed  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  pure  tastes,  it  is  for  that  sole  reason  a  life 
acceptable  to  God.  Such  a  life  may  be  as  selfish  and 
unchristlike  as  a  miser's. 

Or  again,  there  is  danger  of  resting  in  a  superficial 
view  of  evil :  of  forgetting  the  sinfulness  of  sin  when 
it  ceases  to  be  gross.  Some  of  you  will  recall  that 
familiar  picture  in  three  compartments,  representing 
the  history  of  the  prodigal  son  ;  and  you  may  remem- 
ber that  the  central  picture,  which  sets  forth  his  life 
of  pleasure  in  the  far  country,  portrays  a  scene  in 
which  not  only  eating  and  drinking,  but  music  and 
literature  and  the  fine  arts  bear  a  part.     Remember 


'  Canon  Mozley,  Essay  on  Blanco  White. 


Taste  and  holiness.        -  243 

that  sin  is  no  less  sin  because  it  is  beautifully  draped 
and  conventionally  recognized.  I  want  to  read  you 
one  or  two  passages  from  a  man  whom  God  endowed 
with  a  terrible  crystalline  plainness  of  speech,  and  a 
deep  insight  into  truth.  ''  As  the  reason  is  cultivated, 
the  taste  formed,  the  affections  and  sentiments  refined, 
a  general  decency  and  grace  will  of  course  spread 
over  the  face  of  society,  quite  independently  of  the 
influence  of  Revelation.  That  beauty  and  delicacy 
of  thought  which  is  so  attractive  in  books,  then  ex- 
tends to  the  conduct  of  life,  to  all  we  have,  all  we  do, 
all  w^e  are.  Our  manners  are  courteous  ;  we  avoid 
giving  pain  or  offence  ;  our  w^ords  become  correct  ; 
our  relative  duties  are  carefully  performed.  Our 
sense  of  propriety  shows  itself  even  in  our  domestic 
arrangements,  in  the  embellishments  of  our  houses, 
in  our  amusements,  and  so  also  in  our  religious  pro- 
fession. Vice  now  becomes  unseemly  and  hideous  to 
the  imagination,  or,  as  it  is  sometimes  familiarly  said, 
out  of  taste.  Thus  elegance  is  gradually  made  the 
test  and  the  standard  of  virtue,  which  is  no  longer 
thought  to  possess  an  intrinsic  claim  on  our  hearts, 
or  to  exist,  farther  than  it  leads  to  the  quiet  and  com- 
fort of  others.  Conscience  is  no  longer  recognized 
as  an  independent  arbiter  of  actions,  its  authority  is 
explained  away  ;  partly  it  is  superseded  in  the  minds 
of  men  by  the  so-called  moral  sense,  which  is  regarded 
merely  as  the  love  of  the  beautiful,  partly  by  the  rule 
of  expediency  which  is  forthwith  substituted  for  it  in 

the  details  of  conduct Here  is  a  teaching  only 

partially  evangelical,  built  upon  worldly  principle,  yet 


244  *     Faith  and  Character. 

pretending  to  be  the  gospel — dropping  one  whole  side 
of  the  gospel,  its  austere  character,  and  considering 
it  enough  to  be  benevolent,  courteous,  candid,  cor- 
rect in  conduct,  delicate — though  it  includes  no  true 
fear  of  God,  no  fervent  zeal  fur  His  honor,  no  deep 
hatred  of  sin,  ....  no  sense  of  the  authority  of 
religion  as  external  to  the  mind,  in  a  word,  no  seri- 
ousness."' It  may  be  well  to  remember  that  that  is 
the  condition  ascribed  to  the  Laodicean  church  by 
the  Spirit  —  lukewarm,  neither  cold  nor  hot  —  and 
that  God  says  to  such  a  character,  ''  I  will  spue  thee 
out  of  My  mouth." 

But  we  must  not  only  keep  our  sense  of  the  beau- 
tiful from  interfering  with  duty  ;  there  is  a  step  far- 
ther, namely,  a  conscious  and  habitual  consecration  of 
all  the  beautiful  and  tasteful  elements  of  our  life  to 
God  and  to  Christian  service.  If  you  have  a  beauti- 
ful thing,  make  it  teach  you  heavenly  lessons,  and 
turn  it  to  heavenly  uses.  If  you  cannot  do  this,  the 
thing  itself  is  ugly.  If  you  can,  you  will  get  from  it 
in  this  way  the  very  best  and  richest  that  it  has  for 
you.  That  flower  mission  was  a  Christian  thought  in 
its  very  essence  and  spirit,  a  consecration  of  beauty 
to  Christlike  ministry.  I  knew  a  man  in  this  city, 
years  ago,  who  taught  a  large  Bible  class  of  pt)or 
people.  At  regular  intervals  he  would  meet  his  class 
at  his  house,  where  thousands  of  dollars'  worth  of 
paintings  covered  the  walls,  and  where  the  shelves 
were  loaded  with  books  and  engravings  and  articles 

'  John  Henry  Newman,  Seimon  on  *♦  The  Religion  of  the  Day." 


Taste  and  Holiness.  245 

of  beauty.  And  he  would  give  up  his  evening  to 
showing  and  explaining  to  these  people  his  treasures. 
They  came  and  received  a  glimpse  into  a  new  world; 
— hints  of  a  beauty  and  grace  and  loveliness,  very  lit- 
tle of  which  ever  found  its  way  to  their  poor  homes. 
''They  did  not  appreciate  it  all,"  some  one  will  say. 
No,  probably  not,  but  that  deed,  that  consecrated  use 
of  beauty,  was  more  beautiful  than  all  the  pictures 
on  their  benefactor's  walls. 

And  so  I  close  by  saying  that  you  will  know  what 
beauty,  grace,  majesty,  loveliness,  truly  are,  only 
when  you  shall  have  consecrated  all  artistic  suscepti- 
bilities, all  beautiful  things  about  you  to  Christ  and 
to  his  service.  As  I  have  said  already,  God  loves 
beauty.  He  loves  to  have  you  love  what  is  beautiful. 
He  bids  you  think  on  these  things.  But  He  wants 
your  sense  of  the  beautiful  rooted  in  holy  character, 
and  all  the  beauty  of  your  life  and  thought  to  resolve 
itself  finally  into  the  beauty  of  holiness.  You  know 
what  a  geode  is — a  pebble,  which  on  being  broken,  is 
found  to  be  full  of  crystals.  Some  years  ago  a  very 
large  one  was  found,  which,  on  being  opened,  dis- 
played a  cluster  of  brilliant  crystals  arranged  in  the 
form  of  a  cross.  And  so,  when  the  hard  shell  of  sel- 
fishness shall  have  been  broken,  and  all  these  beauti- 
ful tastes  and  affinities  shall  group  themselves  about 
the  cross,  and  fall  into  the  lines  of  Christian  ministry 
and  assimilate  with  that  spirit  of  holy  love  which  is 
the  essence  of  the  gospel  and  the  essence  of  divine 
beauty,  then  shall  men  know  with  what  good  reason 
the  apostle  said,  ''Think  on  these  things." 


BALAAM, 


2    PETER    II. 

(15)  Which    have    forsaken    the    right   way,    and    are   gone 

astray,  following  the  way  of  Balaam  the  son  of  Bosor, 
who  loved  the  wages  of  unrighteousness  ; 

(16)  But  was  rebuked  for  his  iniquity,  the  dumb  ass,  speak- 

ing with   man's   voice,   forbad   the   madness    of  the 
prophet. 


XIV. 

BALAAM. 

Balaam  is  mentioned  tliree  times  in  the  New  Tes- 
tament, and  each  time  with  reproach.  It  is  a  sad 
thing  to  have  a  great  man's  name  come  down  to  us 
only  as  a  warning  ;  saddest  of  all  when  we  recognize 
in  him  a  prophet  of  God,  and  the  vehicle  of  words 
which  even  now  thrill  our  hearts  by  their  beauty  and 
the  richness  of  their  divine  promise.  The  contrast  is 
sharp  and  painful  between  the  sublime  prophecy  in 
the  twenty-fourth  chapter  of  Numbers,  and  the  words 
of  our  text. 

But  no  man  traverses  the  distance  between  these 
two  extremes  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.  We  never 
cease  wondering  at  the  sudden  falls  of  men  from  high 
religious  positions  to  infamy,  forgetting  that  the  sud- 
denness is  only  seeming,  and  that  much  of  the  appar- 
ent goodness  which  preceded  the  fall  was  hollow, 
fallacious,  and  covering  the  slope  to  the  final  ruin. 
The  special  value  of  the  story  of  Balaam  is  in  uncov- 
erinor  some  of  these  fallacies.  As  he  comes  before  us 
in  the  Old  Testament  narrative,  we  may  justly  say 
that  goodness  and  greatness  appear  to  blend  in  him. 
Not  a  perfect  man,  according  to  the  New  Testament 
standard,  we  yet  are  impressed  with  the  appearance 


250  Faith  and  Character. 

of  a  well-developed  sense  of  duty,  a  sturdy  conscien- 
tiousness, a  goodly  share  of  moral  courage,  and  a 
highly-wrought  moral  enthusiasm. 

With  this,  we  find  that  he  is  no  obscure  man.  He 
is  known  throughout  the  region  as  one  whose  bless- 
ing or  curse  carries  power  with  it.  He  is  one  whom 
kings  approach  with  respectful  urgency,  and  with 
magnificent  offers. 

The  tribes,  in  their  journey  to  Canaan,  had  now 
reached  their  last  encampment  on  the  east  of  the  Jor- 
dan, in  the  land  of  Moab.  Their  camp  was  pitched 
on  the  highest  of  the  three  terraces  which  rose  from 
the  bed  of  the  Jordan  ;  and  from  this  height  they 
could  look  across  to  the  land  of  promise,  and  could 
see  the  green  meadows  and  balsams  of  Jericho  which 
was  soon  to  fall  beneath  their  power. 

Frightened  by  the  recent  success  of  Israel  against 
the  Amorites,  Balak,  the  Moabite  king,  formed  an 
alliance  with  the  forces  of  Midian  ;  and  the  united 
host  encamped  on  the  heights  of  Abarim,  behind  the 
Israelites.  But  Balak  was  not  disposed  to  trust  en- 
tirely to  this  alliance.  He  desired  supernatural  aid  ; 
and,  for  this  purpose,  sent  messengers  to  Balaam, 
who  lived  somewhere  among  the  Mesopotamian  hills  ; 
a  worshipper  and  prophet  of  the  true  God,  but  so 
well  known  and  so  highly  respected  that  the  Moabite 
king  said  in  this  message,  ''  I  wot  that  he  whom  thou 
blessest  is  blessed,  and  he  whom  tliou  cursest  is  curs- 
ed." Evidently  tlie  gods  of  the  Moabites  were  not 
jealous  gods,  and  did  not  insist  on  having  a  monop- 
oly of  devotion.     At  any  rate,  their  royal  worshipper 


Balaam.  251 

was  not  so  jealous  for  their  honor,  that  he  was  not 
quite  willing  to  have  it  shared  with  another  and  a 
strange  deity,  provided  he  could  secure  thereby  some 
stronger  spell  for  the  destruction  of  his  enemies. 
Such  is  the  inherent  weakness  and  inconsistency  of 
pagan  faiths.  This  was  why  so  much  emphasis  was 
laid  on  the  truth  that  the  Lord  God  is  a  jealous  God. 
He  will  not  give  His  glory  to  another ;  and  His  true 
worshippers  must  trust  Him  wholly,  or  not  at  all. 

The  envoys  from  Balak,  having  presented  to 
Balaam  their  master's  request  that  he  would  come 
and  curse  Israel,  were  detained  by  him  until  he 
should  have  asked  counsel  of  God  ;  and  that  counsel 
was  promptly  given,  and  in  no  doubtful  terms  : 
*'  Thou  shalt  not  go  with  them  ;  thou  shalt  not  curse 
the  people,  for  they  are  blessed." 

Balaam  did  not  argue  nor  temporize.  He  acted 
as  a  true  prophet  of  God  might  be  expected  to  act. 
He  took  God's  literal  answer  back  to  the  deputies  : 
*'The  Lord  refuseth  to  give  me  leave  to  go  with 
you."  Would  that,  for  Balaam's  sake,  the  story 
might  have  stopped  just  here.  Thus  far  all  is  hon- 
orable to  him  ;  his  appeal  to  divine  wisdom,  his  un- 
questioning acquiescence  in  the  answer,  his  point- 
blank  refusal  of  the  ambassadors. 

But  character  is  not  to  be  estimated  by  one  such 
act,  however  bold  and  manly.  The  engineer  who 
knows  that  fortress  wall,  knows  that  there  is  a  cer- 
tain spot  where  the  first  ball  will  not  tell,  nor  the 
second  ;  but  he  trembles  when  he  thinks  of  the 
third.     In  his  illustration  of  the  houses  on  the  sand 


252  Faith  and  Character. 

and  on  the  rock,  you  remember  that  our  Lord  rep- 
resented them  as  exposed  to  a  succession  of  shocks — 
the  floods,  the  wind,  the  rain — and  the  same  idea  is 
brought  out  by  Paul  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Ephesians, 
where  the  victor,  in  the  spiritual  fight,  is  declared  to 
be  the  one  who  stands  after  having  done  all.  Men 
often  exhibit  enough  moral  strength  to  carry  them 
through  one  or  two  ordeals  ;  but  the  long  succession 
of  assaults  which  waits  on  all  moral  warfare  will  cer- 
tainly disclose  the  latent  moral  weakness  at  last. 

I  do  not  know  whether  Balak  knew  his  man.  At 
all  events  this  direct  refusal  did  not  discourage  him. 
Back  came  the  envoys  again,  and  this  time  with 
large  promises.  ''  I  will  promote  thee  unto  very  great 
honor,  and  I  will  do  whatsoever  thou  sayest  unto 
me." 

At  first  sight  it  appears  as  though  Balaam  were 
going  to  stand  tliis  second  ordeal  equally  well.  His 
words  have  a  good  honest  ring  :  "If  Balak  would 
give  me  his  house  full  of  silver  and  gold,  I  cannot  go 
beyond  the  word  of  the  Lord  my  God,  to  do  less  or 
more."  Why  did  he  not  stop  right  there  ?  Why  did 
he  not  tell  the  envoys  to  go  back  to  their  master  at 
once,  saying  "  God  has  refused  to  let  me  go.  Your 
offers  of  honor  and  wealth  can  make  no  difference  ?  " 
But  no,  we  begin  to  detect  Balaam's  weakness  in  his 
next  words.  "  Now  therefore,  I  pray  you,  tarry  ye  also 
here  this  night,  that  I  may  know  what  the  Lord  will  say 
unto  me  more."  More,  forsooth  !  What  more  could 
he  expect  ?  Could  any  declaration  have  been  more 
decisive  or  more  comprehensive  than  the  one  he  had 


Balaam.  253 

already  received  :  ''  Thou  shalt  not  go  with  them  ; 
thou  shalt  not  curse  the  people,  for  they  are  blessed  ? " 
Did  Balaam  know  so  little  of  God  as  to  think  that  the 
circumstance  of  Balak's  sending  a  second  time,  and 
offering  him  a  bribe,  would  influence  the  Almighty  to 
change  His  positive  decree  ?     Did  he  think  God  was 
a  man  that  He  should  repent  ?     Balaam's  secret  heart 
is  disclosed  in  that   invitation  to  tarry,  and  in  that 
second  consultation  of  God.     He  wanted  to  go.     He 
was  not  satisfied  with  God's  answer.     He  wanted  to 
talk  it  over  again.     He  did  not  mean  to  disobey  God, 
but  he  thought  God  might  be  prevailed  on  to  let  him 
^Ci ;  and  he   meant  to  prevail   on  him,  if  he  could. 
Yet  Balaam  only  illustrates  a  common  tendency  of 
the  human  heart  in  all  ages.     Strange  if  we  have  not 
found  traces  of  it  in  ourselves.     It  is  not  natural  for 
us  to  accept  one  utterance  of  God  as  decisive,  when 
it  clashes  with  our  own  purpose.     And  a  wrong  de- 
sire has  not  only  a  power  of  resistance,  but  a  power 
of  delusion.      In  ordinary  life,  you  will  often  notice 
how  completely  a  man  is  blinded  when  he  wants  a 
certain  thing  very  much — a  house,  or  a  picture,  or  a 
marriage  alliance.      His  eyes  will  be  completely  shut 
to  the  state  of  his  own  purse,  to  the  rightfulness  of 
other  claims,  to  defects  of  character  in  another  ;  and 
he  will  plunge  into  a  folly  or  extravagance  which, 
perhaps,  cripples  him  for  the  rest  of  his  life.     And 
this   same  power   of  delusion  often  gives  a  man  a 
false  and  debased  view  of  God  Himself.     When  he 
wants   to  gain  some  end,  or  to  pursue  some  course 
which  is  wrong  or  imprudent,  while  he  is  neverthe- 


254  Faith  and  Character, 

less  afraid  to  violate  God's  command,  he  often  tries 
to  bring  God  into  complicity  with  his  purpose.  He 
refuses  to  accept  the  clear  indication  of  God's  word  or 
Spirit,  that  he  had  best  drop  tlie  thing  entirely,  and 
turn  his  back  on  it.  It  comes  back  to  him  with  new 
allurements,  and  instead  of  saying :  ''  The  word  is 
spoken,  God's  will  is  declared,  and  there  is  an  end 
of  the  matter,"  he  says,  like  Balaam,  ''  Do  not  go  yet. 
Let  me  talk  it  over  once  more  with  God.  Let  me 
see  if  I  cannot  find  a  way  to  gratify  myself  without 
positively  disobeying  Him."  The  man  is  so  blind  to 
the  awful  purity  and  truth  of  the  divine  character,  as 
to  think  that,  in  this  particular  case,  because  tlie 
thing  is  so  dear  to  him,  God  will  relax  the  stringency 
of  His  law,  and  grant  his  desire.  It  was  against  this 
delusion  that  those  solemn  words  were  written,  *'  Be 
not  deceived,  God  is  not  mocked." 

But  we  find  this  error  of  Balaam's  character  leadina: 
into  another  and  more  radical  one.  We  get  down 
here  to  one  of  his  fundamental  principles  of  action, 
and  we  find  it  thoroughly  unsound.  Bear  in  mind 
that  Balaam  has  no  intention  of  disobeying  God. 
He  will  not  go  in  the  face  of  a  direct  prohibition, 
and  if  he  goes,  he  does  not  mean  to  speak  anything 
but  what  God  shall  tell  him.  But  at  this  very  point 
you  see  that  the  emphasis  in  Balaam's  mind  is  upon 
not  disobeying.  He  wanted  God  to  open  some  way 
whereby  he  could  accomplisli  his  own  j^leasure,  and 
yet  keep  within  the  limit  of  obedience.  Whereas,  the 
emphasis  ought  to  have  been  upon  carrying  out  to 
the  letter  God's  first  injunction,  "  Tliou  shalt  not  go 


Balaam.  255 

with  them  ;  thou  shalt  not  curse  them."  So  his  error 
may  be  simply  put  in  the  words  of  a  great  modern 
divine  :  ^  *'  His  endeavor  was  not  to  please  God,  but 
to  please  self,  without  displeasing  God." 

And  here  we  see  the  worm  at  the  root  of  a  good 
deal  of  service  which  goes  under  a  higher  name  than 
did  Balaam's.  The  Christian  ideal  of  service  to  God 
is  that  of  an  enthusiasm  with  love  as  its  mainspring ; 
a  service  which  is  spontaneous,  generous  in  the  be- 
stowment  of  all  its  powers,  unselfish,  and  not  disposed 
to  stand  on  what  it  conceives  to  be  its  rights.  It  is 
illustrated  by  the  woman  who  broke  the  alabaster  box 
of  ointment  on  Jesus'  head,  and  poured  out  the  whole 
without  stint.  Everywhere,  love's  service  seeketh  not 
her  own.  Love  says  :  *'  Only  let  me  know  what  God's 
will  is,  and  my  delight  shall  be  to  do  it."  This  is  the 
plane  upon  which  Christ  puts  His  disciples  when  He 
says:  **  Henceforth  I  call  you  not  servants,  but 
friends."  It  is  the  plane  of  confidential  relationship  : 
the  servant  knoweth  not  what  his  Lord  doeth,  but 
the  secret  of  the  Lord  is  with  them  that  fear  Him. 
This  relation  involves  obedience  and  service,  it  is 
true  ;  but  it  is  something  more  than  mere  obedience 
or  mere  service.  It  is  cooperation  :  God  and  man 
working  in  the  harmony  of  perfect  love  to  carry  out 
God's  will. 

But  a  man  may  be  content  to  live  on  the  lower 
plane  of  bare  obedience,  in  which  case  the  great 
question  of  his  life  will  be,  not,  "  How  can  I  please 

'  J.  H.  Newman, 


256  Faith  and  Character. 

God?  What  can  I  do  for  Him?"  but  "  How  much 
can  I  do  for  self  within  the  limits  of  God's  law  ? 
How  much  can  I  keep  for  self  without  defrauding 
Him  ? "  Such  an  one  abandons  the  loving,  impulsive, 
generous  side  of  service,  and  takes  up  with  the  cau- 
tious, niggardly,  self-interested  side.  He  substitutes 
the  obedience  of  fear  for  the  obedience  of  love. 

And  what  is  our  heavenly  Father's  view  of  such 
sefvice  from  one  whom  He  would  fain  regard  as  a  son 
and  a  friend  ?  You  may  answer  the  question  from 
your  own  parental  feeling.  Suppose  you  had  bidden 
your  boy  not  to  go  within  a  certain  distance  of  a  dan- 
gerous stream  w^hich  ran  through  your  grounds  ;  and 
suppose  that  every  time  you  happened  to  see  him  at 
his  play,  you  should  find  him  just  as  near  the  line  as 
he  could  go  Avithout  actually  disobeying  you,  look- 
ing longingly  over  to  the  stream  ;  that  ever}^  time 
you  talked  with  him  about  his  day's  pursuits,  you 
should  find  that  his  thought  was  dwelling  on  that 
forbidden  pleasure  ;  that  he  was  continually  hinting 
his  desire  to  have  you  withdraw  your  command,  and 
seeking  for  an  excuse  to  evade  it.  Would  you  be  sat- 
isfied with  such  obedience,  even  though  he  should 
never  transgress  ?  Would  not  his  behaviour  tell  you, 
immistakably,  that  his  heart  was  set,  not  on  doing 
your  will,  but  his  own  ?  And  yet  how  much  just  such 
service  as  this  there  is,  which  goes  under  the  name 
of  Christian  service,  which  consists  in  an  absence  of 
actual  transgression  rather  than  in  the  free  will  offer- 
ing of  the  life.  An  absence  of  transgression  do  I  say  ? 
Let  us  not  be  too  sure  of  that.     That,  perhaps,  is  the 


Balaam.  257 

way  men  view  it.  They  may  think  it  makes  very 
little  difference  which  way  the  secret  desire  tends,  so 
long  as  the  outward  life  is  kept  within  bounds  ;  but 
it  is  the  tendency  of  that  secret  desire  w^hich  makes 
all  the  difference  to  God.  It  was  Balaam's  longing 
to  go  with  the  Moabitish  envoys  w^hich  made  the 
great,  final  difference  in  the  issue  of  his  life.  A  pro- 
fessing Christian  does  not  go  over  the  boundary,  per- 
haps, but  does  it  not  indicate  a  strange  state  of  things 
in  a  Christian  heart  that  it  should  want  to  go  so  near  ? 
He  does  not  mean  nor  want  to  be  identified  with 
God's  enemies,  but  is  it  not  a  strange  longing  in  a 
Christian  heart,  to  want  to  have  so  much  of  their 
society  ?  He  does  not  want  to  be  a  lover  of  pleasure 
more  than  of  God,  but  is  there  not  a  singular  incon- 
sistency in  his  zeal  to  pursue  worldly  pleasure  up  to 
the  very  limit  of  Christian  fidelity  ?  He  does  not 
want  to  transgress  the  bounds  of  honesty  in  business, 
but  does  it  look  like  hearty  sympathy  with  the  high, 
broad,  generous  morality  of  the  gospel,  when  he  is  will- 
ing to  stretcli  the  morals  of  trade  to  the  very  verge  of 
fairness  ?  It  is  this  spirit  which  we  have  to  fear  in  the 
church  at  large.  This  spirit,  wiiich  keeps  men  down 
on  the  low  plane  of  fearful  obedience,  instead  of  the 
spirit  which  leads  them  up  to  the  higher  level  of  lov- 
ing consecration  ;  this  spirit  which  wants  just  as  much 
of  the  world  as  it  can  possibly  smuggle  in  on  the 
road  to  Heaven  ;  this  spirit  which  is  afraid  openly  to 
disobey  God,  but  which,  nevertheless,  longs  for  that 
which  He  forbids.  This  is  not  the  spirit  of  Christ's 
friends  ;  not  the  spirit  which  will  make  men  cham- 


258  Faith  and  Character. 

pions  of  truth  and  holiness  ;  not  the  spirit  which  will 
make  tlie  Church  a  terror  to  evil-doers,  or  a  bright 
and  shining  light  in  an  evil  and  compromising  world. 
The  only  spirit  which  will  work  such  results  is  that 
which  found  voice  in  the  words  of  Him  whom  Ba- 
laam saw  in  the  vision  of  prophecy,  *'  My  meat  is  to 
do  the  will  of  Him  that  sent  me,  and  to  finish  His 
work." 

The  result  of  Balaam's  second  consultation  witli  God 
is  very  startling,  and,  at  first  sight,  puzzling.  We  have 
been  prepared  to  expect  that  the  first  refusal  would 
be  repeated  and  sternly  emphasized  with  a  rebuke 
of  the  prophet's  persistence.  Instead  of  this,  God 
seems  to  give  way.  He  comes  to  him  by  night  and 
says  :  '*  If  the  men  come  to  call  thee,  rise  up,  and  go 
with  them  ;  but  yet  the  word  w^hich  I  shall  say  unto 
thee,  that  shalt  thou  do."  That  was  exactly  as 
Balaam  wanted  it.  He  did  not  want  nor  mean  to 
curse  Israel.  He  did  not  want  to  go  with  Balak's 
messengers,  and  God  gave  him  the  permission  he 
desired,  and  laid  the  prohibition  just  where  he  would 
have  laid  it  himself. 

So  he  was  off  betimes  the  next  morning.  How 
prompt  men  are  to  move  when  they  are  carrying  out 
their  own  wishes.  But  now  we  are  told  that,  after 
allowing  him  to  go,  God's  anger  was  kindled  because 
he  went,  and  the  angel,  with  drawn  sword  and  mena- 
cing look,  met  him  with  God's  message  of  wrath. 
Does  not  this  look  like  caprice  ? 

On  the  contrary,  it  opens  to  us  one  of  the  most  aw- 
ful features  of  God's  dealing  with  men.     There  is  no 


Balaam.  259 

inconsistency  nor  caprice  here.  God's  will  was  ex- 
pressed in  the  first  refusal :  *'  Thou  shalt  hot  go  with 
them  ;  thou  shalt  not  curse  them. "  That  will  had  not 
changed.  God's  intent  was  no  different  when  He 
permitted  Balaam  to  go  than  when  he  refused  him  ; 
but  Balaam's  perverseness  of  heart  had  complicated 
the  matter,  and  had  introduced  a  new  element  into  it ; 
and  it  was  this  new  element  which  was  contemplated 
by  God's  permission.  It  not  unfrequently  happens 
that  permissions  are  God's  most  fearful  punishments  ; 
that  the  worst  judgment  God  can  send  upon  a  man  is 
to  give  him  his  own  way.  We  are  often  perplexed 
and  troubled  at  the  prosperity  of  wicked  men,  won- 
dering why  God  permits  them  to  have  their  own  way 
and  does  not  judge  them,  and  we  forget  that,  possibly, 
the  judgment  is  already  begun  ;  that  in  giving  them 
their  own  way,  God  is  letting  them  work  out  their 
own  judgment.  That  terrible  passage  in  the  first 
chapter  of  Proverbs  shows  that  the  wise  man  had 
recognized  this  truth  :  ''  For  that  they  hated  knowl- 
edge, and  did  not  choose  the  fear  of  the  Lord  :  they 
would  none  of  my  counsel ;  they  despised  all  my  re- 
proof :  therefore  shall  they  eat  of  the  fruit  of  their 
own  way,  and  be  filled  with  their  own  devices.  For 
the  turning  away  of  the  simple  shall  slay  them,  and 
the  prosperity  of  fools  shall  destroy  them." 

There  was  one  encampment  of  Israel  which  bore 
an  awful  name,  Kibroth-hattaavah,  **  the  graves  of 
greediness."  They  left  a  multitude  of  their  kins- 
men in  those  graves.  God  had  provided  for  them 
the  food  best  suited  to  their  condition,  His  own  spe- 


26o  Faith  and  Character. 

cial  gift,  the  manna  falling  fresh  from  heaven  every 
morning.  But  they  were  discontented.  There  is 
something  almost  ludicrous  in  the  spectacle  of  that 
host  of  people  weeping  at  the  remembrance  of  the 
flesh-pots  of  Egypt,  and  cry^ing  :  ''Who  will  give  us 
flesh  to  eat  ? "  The  answer  came  from  an  unexpected 
quarter.  The  God  who  had  all  along  refused  them 
flesh,  suddenly  said  :  ''/  will  give  you  flesh  to  eat." 
It  came  on  the  wings  of  the  wind.  The  blast  which 
blew  from  the  Arabian  Sea,  bore  into  the  camp  the 
hosts  of  the  migrating  quails,  and  for  a  day's  journey 
on  either  side  the  camp,  they  lay  piled  two  cubits 
high  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  The  people  might 
revel  in  flesh.  Let  the  seventy-eighth  Psalm,  Asaph's 
Psalm  of  instruction,  finish  the  story:  **They  tempt- 
ed God  in  their  heart,  by  asking  meat  for  their  lust. 
Yea,  they  spake  against  God.  They  said.  Can  God 
furnish  a  table  in  the  wilderness  ?  .  .  .  Therefore  the 
Lord  heard  this,  and  was  wroth  ;  so  a  fire  was  kindled 
against  Jacob,  and  anger  also  came  up  against  Israel ; 
because  they  believed  not  in  God,  and  trusted  not 
in  His  salvation  ;  though  He  had  commanded  the 
clouds  from  above,  and  opened  the  doors  of  heaven, 
and  had  rained  down  manna  upon  them  to  eat.  .  .  , 
He  rained  flesh  also  upon  them  as  dust,  and  feathered 
fowls  like  as  the  sand  of  the  sea.  ...  So  they  did  eat, 
and  were  well  filled :  for  He  gave  them  their  own  de- 
sire ;  they  were  not  estranged  from  their  lust ;  but 
while  their  meat  was  yet  in  their  mouths,  the  wrath 
of  God  came  upon  them,  and  slew  the  fattest  of  them, 
and  smote  down  the  chosen  men  of  Israel." 


Balaam.  26 1 

So  God  often  punishes  men  by  answering  the 
prayer  of  their  estranged  hearts.  They  have  either 
the  positive  prohibitions  of  His  word,  or  other  equally 
clear  indications  of  His  will,  pointing  them  away  from 
certain  courses  which  they  wish  to  pursue,  or  indi- 
cating God's  denial  of  certain  things  which  they  want. 
Yet  they  will  not  accept  God's  decision  in  the  matter 
as  final.  They  want  to  talk  it  over  and  argue  it  with 
Him,  or  they  reject  His  decision  with  contempt,  and 
press  on  after  the  coveted  boon ;  and,  finally,  God 
withdraws  His  restraint.  He  says,  '*  Have  your  own 
way.  You  are  determined  to  be  rich ;  see  !  here  are 
silver  and  gold  to  your  heart's  content.  You  are  de- 
termined to  form  such  a  connection  ;  well,  have  your 
desire.  You  are  determined  to  thrust  yourself  into 
public  life,  and  to  have  your  ears  tickled  Avith  the 
popular  breath  ;  you  were  better  fitted  for  a  more 
quiet  sphere,  and  I  would  gladly  have  kept  you  there, 
for  your  own  sake  ;  but  go  out  into  the  wider,  more 
tumultuous  life."  I  know  not  how  many  of  us  to-day 
may  be  reaping  the  fruit  of  our  own  heart's  lust  in 
something  or  other  which  God  has  conceded  to  our 
desire,  only  to  be  our  pain  and  our  daily  trial.  You 
know  how  often  the  coveted  riches  have  buried  man- 
hood under  their  accumulations  ;  how  often  the  cov- 
eted alliance  has  proved  a  snare  and  a  life-long 
pest ;  how  often  the  coveted  fame  has  brought  bitter- 
ness and  slander,  and  disappointment  in  its  track. 
Now  and  then  my  attention  is  called  to  people  who 
have  taken  the  direction  of  their  life  into  their  own 
hands  ;  who  have  deliberately  set  themselves  to  carry 


26*2  Faith  and  CJiaracter. 

out  their  own  godless  and  selfish  principles.  They 
think  the  Bible  an  antiquated  book,  and  they  want 
none  of  it  in  fashioning  their  own  lives  or  their  chil- 
dren's. They  have  set  out  "  to  have  a  good  time,"  as 
they  say,  and  they  mean  to  have  it,  and  in  their  own 
way.  They  form  not  the  associations  which  are  best, 
but  the  associations  which  please  them.  They  mean 
to  have  their  cultured,  elegant  leisure,  no  matter 
what  duty  stands  in  the  way.  They  will  gratify 
pride  and  selfishness,  no  matter  who  goes  under. 
And  in  God's  tolerance,  and  it  would  almost  seem 
furtherance,  of  these  lives  along  their  chosen  line, 
I  see  their  retribution  working  itself  out.  I  hear 
God  saying,  *'  Have  your  own  way.  I  have  warned 
you.  I  have  called  and  you  have  refused.  I  give 
you  your  heart's  desire.  You  shall  be  filled  with 
your  own  devices.  The  calamities  which  begin  to 
fall  in  along  the  line  as  it  is  farther  and  farther  drawn 
out,  may  all  be  traced  to  the  original,  perverted  de- 
sire and  determination  to  please  self,  and  not  God. 
Balaam  received  a  terrible  hint  of  his  mistake  long 
before  he  reached  his  destination.  The  angelic  mes- 
senger bestriding  the  path,  who  made  the  dumb  beast 
start  back  and  tremble,  and  finally  speak  with  human 
accents,  laid  open  Balaam's  delusion,  and  showed  him 
that,  whereas  he  had  congratulated  himself  on  having 
secured  God's  permission,  he  was  riding  toward  God's 
wrath,  along  the  very  line  of  his  permission.  Tliat  in 
his  very  permission,  God  was  withstanding  his  per- 
verse way.  Balaam  would  have  gone  back  then,  but 
it  was  too  late.  The  angel  said,  *'No  ;  you  must  go 
the  way  you  Iiave  chosen." 


Balaam.  263 

But  men  are  usually  blind  to  this  fearful  truth. 
They  rejoice  in  God's  permission  to  have  their  own 
way,  and  when  the  appropriate  retribution  comes, 
they  lay  it  to  circumstances.  Balaam,  not  seeing  the 
angel  of  the  Lord  in  the  path,  grew  angry  at  his  beast 
which  started,  and  shrank,  and  crushed  his  foot 
against  the  wall,  and  began  to  belabor  the  poor 
dumb  creature.  And  so  men,  overlooking  the  great, 
eternal  truth  that  all  the  evil  in  life  grows  out  of 
being  in  wrong  relations  to  God,  put  it  to  themselves 
that  their  evil  grows  out  of  being  in  wrong  relations 
to  circumstances,  and  curse  circumstances  as  the 
cause  of  their  disaster.  They  forget  that  a  man  is 
never  in  right  relation  to  circumstances  until  he  is 
in  right  relation  to  God.  They  think  that  the  evil 
circumstances  have  come  to  them  upon  their  road, 
whereas  they  have  come  to  the  evil  circumstances  by 
taking  the  wrong  road.  Many  of  the  disasters  which 
seem  to  them  the  product  of  the  day,  are  linked  by 
invisible  lines  with  that  point,  far  back  in  their  his- 
tory, perhaps  forgotten,  where  the  ways  parted,  and 
where  they  left  God's  way  and  followed  their  own. 

One  thing  more  is  to  be  briefly  noted.  Balaam 
was  not  ruined  when  he  took  the  road  to  Moab.  The 
fact  that  God  opened  his  eyes  to  his  mistake  showed 
that  there  was  still  a  chance  of  retrieval.  If  he  had 
accepted  the  warning  which  laid  bare  his  radical 
mistake,  he  might,  though  with  pain,  have  retrieved 
himself  in  the  very  position  in  which  his  error  had 
placed  him.  He  did  not  accept  it.  He  w^ent  on 
his  way.     He  was  God's  mouthpiece  for  one  of  the 


264 

grandest  prophecies  of  the  Old  Testament.  God 
used  him  even  while  He  punished  him.  He  blessed 
Israel  even  while  the  curse  fell  on  his  own  head. 
But  the  old  perverseness,  the  old,  worldly,  self-seek- 
ing spirit,  was  too  much  for  him  in  the  end.  Not 
his  going  with  Balak,  but  the  godless  desire  which 
prompted  him  to  go,  and  which  he  did  not  overcome, 
brought  his  ruin  at  last ;  made  him  the  tempter  of 
God's  people,  and  brought  down  on  him  the  swift 
and  summary  judgment  of  an  outraged  God.  So, 
while  these  judgments  which  men  work  out  for  them- 
selves are  their  punishment,  they  are  also  their  warn- 
ing ;  and  though  they  set  men  walking  in  roads  from 
which  God  would  gladly  have  kept  their  feet,  yet,  if 
men  will  accept  the  warning,  they  may,  even  by  the 
hard  road  in  which  their  own  transgression  has 
placed  them,  in  the  brave  fight  with  the  calamities 
which  their  own  folly  has  brought  upon  them,  work 
out  retrieval,  and  fight  their  way  back  to  God  at  last. 
But  it  is  a  dangerous  experiment,  and  Balaam's  story 
proclaims  its  most  common  result. 

Thus,  then,  amid  numerous  lessons  which  this  his- 
tory furnishes,  we  carry  away  with  us  two.  The  one 
is  a  w^arning  against  occupying  that  low  plane  of  ser- 
vice to  God,  which  is  merely  the  obedience  of  fear 
without  the  impulse  of  love,  and  the  aim  of  which  is 
not  how  we  may  please  God  in  all  things,  but  how 
much  we  may  please  self  without  actually  disobeying 
God. 

The  other  is  the  danger  of  being  left  to  our  own 
way.     The  temptation  to  want  our  own  way  does  not 


Balaam.  26$ 

cease  with  experience ;  but  I  think  that  apart  from 
the  warnings  of  God's  word,  most  of  us  have  pages 
in  our  record  to  which  we  now  and  then  turn  back 
with  shame,  and  with  thankful  tears  bless  God  that 
He  refused  to  give  us  our  heart's  desire.  And  the  re- 
sult of  such  reminiscences  should  be,  at  every  move- 
ment of  our  perverse  wills  away  from  God,  to  make 
us  cry  out :  "  O  God,  quench  the  first  spark  of  this 
desire,  and,  above  all  things,  save  me  from  myself." 

12 


CHRISTIAN   SELF-SUFFI- 
CIENCY. 


PHILIPPIANS   IV. 

(ii)  I  speak  in  respect  of  want  :  for  I  have  learned,  in  what- 
soever state  I  am,  therewith  to  be  content. 

(12)  I   know  both   how  to   be  abased,  and   I  know  how  to 

abound  :  everywhere,  and  in  all  things,  I  am  instructed, 
both  to  be  full  and  to  be  hungry,  both  to  abound  and 
to  suffer  need. 

(13)  I  can  do  all  things  through  Christ  which  strengtheneth 

me. 


XV. 

CHRISTIAN   SELF-SUFFICIENCY. 

The  apostle  has  been  speaking  of  the  liberality  of 
the  Philippian  church  toward  himself.  On  several 
occasions  they  had  sent  him  pecuniary  aid  ;  and  as 
soon  as  they  heard  of  his  imprisonment  at  Rome,  they 
dispatched  Epaphroditus  with  a  fresh  supply.  It  is 
after  receiving  this  last  contribution  that  he  writes,  in 
terms  of  warm  thankfulness  for  the  gift,  and  of  high 
praise  for  the  givers. 

At  the  same  time,  he  does  not  wish  the  Macedonian 
brethren  to  think  that  he  is  dependent  upon  human 
aid.  Hence  the  first  words  of  our  text,  "  Not  that  I 
speak  in  respect  of  want,"  that  is,  as  one  who  is  in 
want,  **  I  am  deeply  grateful  to  you  for  your  affec- 
tionate interest  in  me.  I  have  given  you  a  high 
proof  of  my  love  for  you  by  accepting  gifts  from 
you ;  but  I  am  not  dependent  on  your  gifts  for 
the  support  of  my  life  or  for  the  prosecution  of  my 
work.  I  have  learned,  in  whatever  position  I  am, 
therewith  to  be  self-sufficient.'* 

That  has  a  very  conceited  and  arrogant  sound  to 
us,  who  have  come  to  use  self-sufficiency  almost 
wholly  in  a  bad  sense.  We  are  tempted  to  say: 
*'  Is  this  the  courteous  Paul  meeting  the  gift  which 


270  Faith  and  Character, 

his  friends  have  sent  him  out  of  their  deep  poverty, 
with  the  assertion  that  he  is  quite  able  to  take  care 
of  himself  ?  Is  this  the  humble  Paul,  talking  like  a 
hard,  proud  Stoic  about  his  own  self-sufficiency  ? " 

We  may  be  quite  sure  that  the  word,  in  Paul's  mind, 
had  a  meaning  quite  different  from  this  evil  one  ;  and 
that  meaning  it  shall  be  our  object  to  develop,  and 
to  show  how  the  apostle  is  our  example  in  the  virtue 
of  Christian  self-sufficiency. 

I  have  spoken  of  a  Stoic  ;  and  it  is  not  a  little  re- 
markable that  this  word  **  self-sufficiency  "  was  a  fa- 
vorite word  with  that  very  important  sect  of  philoso- 
phers. A  Stoic  would  have  used  Paul's  very  expres- 
sion :  *'  I  have  learned  to  be  self-sufficient  in  every 
position  in  life."  And  here  some  modern  thinkers 
may  step  in,  and  say  :  "  There,  you  see  that  Paul, 
after  all,  is  no  improvement  on  the  heathen  teachers 
of  his  time."  Unfortunately  for  these  thinkers  it 
appears  that  Paul  is  very  far  from  meaning  the  same 
thing  by  the  same  word.  The  philosopher,  when  he 
said,  *'  I  am  self-sufficient,"  meant  that  he  had  in  his 
own  character,  without  any  aid  from  any  quarter, 
the  power  which  made  him  independent  of  circum- 
stances. He  had  won  that  power  himself,  by  study 
and  culture  and  self-discipline  ;  and  when  trouble  or 
adversity  came,  he  fell  proudly  back  on  his  own  will, 
on  his  own  power  of  resistance,  on  his  own  dignity  as 
a  man,  and  bade  defiance  to  trouble. 

But  Paul,  you  observe,  even  while  he  is  talking  of 
self-sufficiency,  throws  self  into  the  background.  He 
can  do  all  things,  but  not  by  his  own  discipline,  nor 


Christian  Self- Sufficiency,  271 

by  his  own  strength  of  will,  but  through  Christ  who 
strengtheneth  him.  And  in  various  places  in  his 
writings  you  find  the  same  sense  of  dependence  on 
some  one  else  mingling  with  the  strongest  assertions 
of  his  independence  of  circumstances.  Surely  he  is 
a  rich  man — what  we  call  an  independent  man — to 
whom  one  can  say,  ''AH  things  are  yours."  So  says 
Paul  to  the  Corinthians,  but  he  adds :  **  Ye  are 
Christ's."  You  and  all  that  belongs  to  you,  belong  to 
Christ.  Again  he  writes:  ''That  ye,  always  having 
all  sufficiency  in  all  things,  may  abound  to  every 
good  work  :"  that  is  independence  indeed  ;  "all  suf- 
ficiency in  all  things,"  but  wait  a  moment.  What  is 
that  little  sentence  at  the  beginning  of  the  passage  ? 
"God  is  able  to  make  all  grace  abound  toward  you, 
that  ye,  having  all  sufficiency  may  abound."  So  the 
sufficiency  is  God's  gift  after  all.  And  once  more, 
look  at  the  third  chapter  of  the  second  Epistle  to  the 
Corinthians.  If  we  should  take  it  up  without  know- 
ing anything  about  the  writer,  and  begin  to  read,  our 
first  impression  would  perhaps  be  :  "Well,  there  is  a 
good  deal  of  self-sufficiency  here.  This  writer  takes 
very  high  ground  toward  his  correspondents."  Do 
we  begin  again  to  commend  ourselves  ?  Do  we  need 
any  commendatory  letters  ?  See  what  we  have  done 
among  you.  See  what  we  have  made  you.  You  are 
our  letters.  But  a  line  or  two  further  on,  we  read  : 
"  You  are  the  letter  of  Christ,  ministered  by  us.  We 
were  only  his  ministers  or  servants.  The  spirit  of  the 
living  God  wrote  his  record  upon  your  hearts."  Just 
hear  this  self-sufficient  Paul:  "  And  such  trust  have 


272  Faith  attd  Character, 

we  through  Christ  toward  God.  Not  that  we  are 
sufficient  of  ourselves  to  think  anything,  as  of  our- 
selves ;  but  our  sufficiency  is  of  God.  He  hath  made 
us  able  ministers  of  the  New  Testament." 

I  think,  by  this  time,  we  must  see  that  Paul  and  the 
philosopher  mean  quite  different  things  by  self-suffi- 
ciency. The  Stoic  is  proud  and  self-centred  ;  Paul  is 
humble,  and  centred  in  Christ.  The  Stoic  withdraws 
within  himself.  Paul  betakes  himself  to  Christ.  The 
one  says  :  *'  I  have  everything  in  myself  to  enable  me 
to  defy  circumstances."  The  other,  "My  God  shall 
supply  all  your  need."  Both  are  self-sufficient ;  but 
the  philosopher's  self-sufficiency  lies  in  his  own  natu- 
ral self,  while  the  apostle's  self-sufficiency  is  in  the 
new  selfy  created  in  him  by  Christ.  It  resides  in  that 
life  which  he  describes  thus  :  '*  Not  I  live,  but  Christ 
liveth  in  me.     For  me  to  live  is  Christ." 

Here,  then,  we  have  the  characteristics  of  Paul's 
self-sufficiency.  He  is  independent  through  depend- 
ance  on  Christ.  He  is  self-sufficient  through  sinking 
self  in  Christ.  Paul,  therefore,  is  our  illustration  of 
this  great  and  vital  truth  :  that  a  man's  true  rela- 
tion TO  CIRCUMSTANCES  IS  DETERMINED  BY  HIS  RELA- 
TION TO  Christ. 

Now,  there  are  a  great  many  people  who,  doubtless, 
think  themselves  independent  and  self-sufficient,  and 
who  are  so  perhaps,  in  a  certain  sense,  but  not  by 
any  means  in  the  highest  Christian  sense. 

What  is  the  popular  idea  of  being  independent  of 
circumstances  ?  It  comes  out  very  oddly  sometimes 
in  the  talk  of  people  whose  worldly   condition  has 


Christian  Self- Sufficiency.  273 

changed.  They  say,  Oh,  yes,  they  are  coming  down 
in  their  style  of  living ;  they  are  going  to  give  up  a 
great  many  things,  they  are  going  into  a  smaller 
house  ;  but  they  shall  nevertheless  be  very  happy. 
But  you  find  that,  after  all,  they  are  not  independent 
of  circumstances.  They  have  a  small  reserv^e  of  cir- 
cumstance to  fall  back  on.  They  are  not  going  to 
forfeit  all  the  elegance  and  comfort  of  life.  They 
say,  *'  We  have  a  great  many  worldly  blessings  and 
comforts  left  yet."  This  is  not  wrong,  understand.  I 
am  not  condemning  it  I  only  use  it  as  an  illustra- 
tion of  the  fact,  that  while,  perhaps,  they  religiously 
think  that  they  are  showing  themselves  independent 
of  circumstances  in  being  cheerful  and  brave,  they 
are  yet  leaning  a  good  deal  on  circumstances.  Sup- 
pose something  cuts  away  the  little  reserve  of  ele- 
gance and  comfort,  and  every  other  mitigating  cir- 
cumstance. What  then  ?  Here  is  a  man  who  says  : 
**  I  can  defy  the  world  ;  I  am  not  rich.  I  have  to 
wear  coarse  clothes  and  eat  coarse  food,  but  I  am 
well  and  strong,  and  I  have  a  good  name  among 
men;  and  though  I  have  a  good  many  cares,  yet  I  can 
keep  a  contented  heart,  and  be  independent  of  cir- 
cumstances." It  may  be  all  true,  and  yet  the  state- 
ment amounts  just  to  this,  that  he  is  independent  of 
all  circumstances  save  good  health,  a  good  name, 
and  enough  to  eat  and  wear,  however  coarse.  Sup- 
pose all  those  bottom  circumstances  change.  Suppose 
God  takes  away  health,  and  lets  slander  blast  his 
name,  and  cuts  off  even  the  poor  supply  of  bread 
and  clothing.     I  do  not  say  that  the  man  will  not  be 


274  Faith  and  Character. 

independent  of  circumstances  even  then  ;  but  inde- 
pendence and  self-sufficiency  will  mean  g,  good  deal 
more  than  they  do  now. 

There  was  Job.  The  oxen  and  asses  were  taken 
away,  but  the  sheep  and  the  camels  and  the  servants 
and  the  children  were  left  yet.  Then  came  a  thun- 
der-storm and  destroyed  the  sheep.  Well,  there  were 
the  camels,  at  any  rate  ;  but,  in  comes  a  messenger 
with  the  news  that  the  camels  and  their  keepers  have 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Chaldeans.  Yet  he  can 
comfort  himself  with  his  family  ;  and,  lo  !  the  great 
wind  arises,  and  Job  is  childless  in  a  breath.  Still 
his  person  is  untouched  ;  but  soon  comes  the  foul 
disease  which  transforms  him  into  a  mass  of  loath- 
some flesh  ;  and  his  wife  does  not  prove  an  efficient 
comforter,  and  his  friends,  good  men  enough,  but 
displaying  as  little  tact  as  good  men  often  show  when 
they  try  to  deal  with  a  nobler  and  finer  nature  than 
their  own,  only  succeed  in  adding  the  last  drop  of 
bitterness  to  his  cup.  Such  cases  are  not  confined  to 
poetry  or  to  allegory.  We  ourselves  have  a  proverb 
that  'troubles  never  come  singly,"  and  you  must 
have  noticed  how  often,  when  God  begins  to  smite, 
He  smites  along  the  whole  line.  He  takes  a  dear 
child  from  its  moth-er's  arms.  By  and  by  another 
babe  is  sent,  and  the  mother  dries  her  tears,  and  even 
while  she  thanks  God  for  the  consolation  He  has  sent 
her,  lo  !  the  cradle  is  empty  again.  A  rich  man  loses 
money,  and  even  while  he  thinks  of  reserved  funds 
on  which  he  will  draw,  tidings  come  that  his  re- 
serves  are  dissipated,  and  that  everything  is  gone. 


Christian  Self- Sufficiency,  275 

The  question  of  Christian  self-sufficiency  is  never 
fully  answered,  until  this  question  is  answered  :  How 
is  it  going  to  be  with  you  when  everything  is  gone, 
when  you  and  God  stand  alone  together,  and  you 
have  absolutely  nothing  ?  Can  you  live  then  ?  Can 
you  be  self-sufficient  then  ?  Is  God  alone  enough  to 
you  to  make  you  absolutely  independent  of  circum- 
stances ? 

And  the  question  gains  force  as  you  note  that 
Paul's  idea  of  self-sufficiency  is  not  that  a  man 
merely  exists  when  circumstances  are  all  against  him  ; 
not  that  he  is  to  be  like  a  bare  rock  lying  passive 
to  the  sweep  of  successive  breakers.  It  is  rather 
that  he  is  to  make  head  against  circumstances,  and 
develop  some  positive  good  out  of  his  life,  and  grow 
in  godly  character  if  he  does  nothing  else,  in  what- 
ever state  he  is.  Paul  showed  that  he  was  not  depen- 
dent on  outside  aid  to  prosecute  the  work  of  an  apos- 
tle. When  supplies  failed,  he  could  work  with  his 
own  hands,  and  make  tents,  and  preach  too.  When 
he  could  not  do  that,  when  he  was  a  prisoner  at  Rome, 
and  before  the  supply  from  Macedonia  reached  him, 
he  was  making  use  of  his  opportunities  to  preach 
Christ  to  his  guards  and  to  strengthen  the  hands  of 
timid  Christians  that  visited  him  ;  and  the  tone  of 
this  epistle,  written  from  his  prison,  is  not  that  of  a 
man  who  is  enduring  under  protest.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  is  full  of  joy  and  cheer  and  stirring  thought 
from  beginning  to  end. 

Let  us  see  how  the  apostle  himself  expands  this 
thought ;  and,  remember,  he  speaks  from  personal  ex- 


2/6  Faith  and  Character. 

perience.  It  will  not  answer  for  a  man  who  wants  to 
drive  home  such  a  truth  as  this,  merely  to  philoso- 
phize and  to  dispense  high-sounding  words  about  the 
superiority  of  mind  to  matter,  and  the  power  of  will 
over  circumstances.  He  must  be  able  to  say  as  Paul 
does  here,  *'I  know." 

See,  then,  how  the  apostle  puts  this  Christian  inde- 
pendence into  relation  with  low  estate,  and  that,  too, 
a  low  estate  which  implies  a  coming  down  from  some- 
thing higher  :  '*  I  know  how  to  be  abased."  Did  he 
not  ?  Look  at  the  young  man  at  whose  feet  the  mur- 
derers of  Stephen  laid  down  their  clothes  ;  the  pupil 
of  Gamaliel,  the  pride  of  the  Jewish  schools,  the  com- 
missioned agent  for  the  extinction  of  heresy.  What 
position  might  he  not  have  held  ?  I  fancy  I  can 
hear  some  old  Jew  who  had  known  him  and  had  been 
proud  of  him  in  those  days,  coming  into  his  Roman 
prison,  and  saying,  *'  Truly,  Paul,  this  is  a  great 
letting-down  for  you."  For  such  a  man,  with  such 
recognized  powers,  to  be  stoned  and  publicly  lashed 
and  imprisoned,  was  surely  to  be  abased.  And  this 
is  a  very  hard  experience  to  anybody.  Paul  was  hu- 
man, and  he  felt  it.  It  is  hard  to  take  the  third  or 
fourth  place,  or  no  place,  after  one  has  been  first. 
Hard  to  lose  the  consideration  which  even  wealth 
gives ;  hard  to  exchange  cultured  associations  for 
vulgar  ones.  Yet  men  and  women  are  daily  called  on 
to  do  just  such  things,  and  when  they  are,  the  ques- 
tion is  answered  for  them  :  how  much  does  their  life 
depend  on  these  things  ?  If  these  are  all  their  re- 
sources, then  there  is  nothing  when  these  are  gone. 


Christian  Self- Sufficiency.  277 

These  are  all  external  to  them  ;  it  remains  to  be  seen 
if  there  is  anything  in  them  which  the  removal  of 
these  things  cannot  affect.  It  remains  to  be  seen 
whether  the  man's  self-respect  depends  on  his  being 
number  one,  or  upon  his  own  consciousness  of  man- 
hood and  of  honor,  and  above  all  of  being  a  son  and 
an  heir  of  God  through  Jesus  Christ.  It  remains  to 
be  seen  whether  the  man's  refinement  and  delicacy 
depend  on  cultured  associations,  or  whether  they  are 
part  of  himself,  so  that  new  and  coarser  associations, 
instead  of  deteriorating  his  fineness,  merely  glide 
over  and  round  him  as  foul  water  on  pure  and  pol- 
ished marble  ;  nay,  more  :  whether  this  same  refine- 
"ment  of  nature  may  not  disclose  power  to  shame  and 
lift  and  purify  its  tainted  environment,  and  to  create 
in  it  affinities  for  purity. 

But  if  coming  down  is  a  test  of  a  true  self-suffi- 
ciency, going  up  is  often  a  severer  one.  Paul  said  he 
knew  how  to  abound  as  well  as  how  to  be  abased. 
Many  a  man  who  keeps  tolerably  well  poised  while 
he  is  going  down,  loses  his  head  when  he  begins  to 
ascend.  I  think  if  you  could  get  the  honest  testi- 
mony of  the  majority  of  those  who  have  experienced 
both  adversity  and  prosperity,  you  would  find  it  to  the 
effect  that  abounding  required  more  grace  than  being 
abased.  The  question  is,  whether  there  is  that  in  a 
man's  own  self  which  will  keep  the  flavor  and  quality 
of  his  manhood  unimpaired  in  spite  of  the  tempta- 
tions of  prosperity.  Whether  the  man  himself  is  so 
much  and  so  true  that  men  look  through  his  circum- 
stances to  him,  and  feel  that  he  is  better  and  greater 


278  Faith  and  Character. 

in  himself  than  anything  which  circumstances  may- 
make  him.  Whether  he  will  stand  the  stripping  off 
of  all  that  factitious  dignity  with  which  prosperity 
clothes  one,  and  appear  to  all  true  souls  the  nobler  in 
his  naked  self.  How  many  men  and  women  can 
stand  that  test  ?  You  know  the  facts  as  well  as  I. 
You  know  what  infinitesimal  selves  sudden  prosperity 
often  brings  to  light.  How  easy  it  is  to  see,  w^hen  a 
man  or  woman  becomes  suddenly  rich,  what  their 
real  ideal  of  manhood  or  of  womanhood  is.  How 
often  you  find  that  it  consists  in  what  they  have  and 
not  in  what  they  are.  You  see  how  often  they  Avill 
fly  in  the  face  of  the  best  social  sentiment,  and  of 
true  charity,  and  of  natural  obligation — yea,  often  of 
common  honesty,  under  the  impression  that  money 
will  compensate  for  all  defects,  and  will  carry  them 
through  anything.  Many  a  man  who  has  been  es- 
teemed a  kind  and  neighborly  man,  as  men  go,  so 
long  as  he  was  a  commonplace  man  with  no  more  re- 
sources than  his  neighbors,  has  developed  into  a  veri- 
table tyrant  the  moment  he  obtained  a  little  power. 
You  see  the  thing  in  the  surly  insolence  of  scores  of 
ignorant  and  vulgar  men  who  are  placed  in  some 
position  of  a  **  little  brief  authority." 

And  then,  further,  what  a  subtle  power  to  under- 
mine the  spiritual  life  lies  in  prosperity.  The  very 
essence  of  a  true  self-sufficiency,  the  very  basis  of  a 
real  independence  of  circumstances,  is  dependence  on 
God ;  faith  ;  living  as  seeing  the  invisible  ;  but  when 
one  has  so  many  visible  supports,  how  easy  it  is  for 
him  to  lose  the  sense  of  dependence  on  the  invisible. 


Christian  Self- Sufficiency.  279 

When  a  man  has  abundant  revenues  pouring  in  from 
farm  and  stock  and  factory,  when  he  sees  so  many 
strong  hands  and  such  a  vast  array  of  machinery 
ministering  to  his  prosperity,  how  easy  it  is  for  him 
to  forget  that  every  good  gift  and  every  perfect  gift 
Cometh  from  the  Father.  And  the  point  to  be  espe- 
cially noted  is  this  :  that  just  to  the  degree  in  which 
he  loses  out  of  his  life  the  sense  of  humble  depend- 
ence on  God  ;  just  to  the  degree  in  which  he  bases 
his  happiness  upon  his  possessions  rather  than  upon 
the  fact  of  his  relation  to  God  ;  just  to  the  degree  in 
which  he  loses  sight  of  the  fact  that  man  lives  by 
God,  and  not  by  God's  gifts  ;  just  to  that  degree  his 
character  is  impaired  and  his  nobler  self  degenerates. 
Just  so  far  he  falls  short  of  a  true  self-sufficiency. 
Just  so  far  he  has  lost  out  of  his  manhood  the  ele- 
ment which  goes  to  make  it  independent  of  circum- 
stances. 

So  Paul  goes  on  to  say  that  he  knows  how  to  be 
full  and  to  be  hungry.  Even  under  the  pressure  of 
a  lower  class,  of  needs — bodily  needs — he  has  learned 
to  be  self-sufficient.  A  man  may  be  well  fed,  and  yet 
little  better  than  a  beast.  He  may  be  hungry,  and 
yet  be  nobler  than  any  king.  What  an  echo  of  our 
Lord's  words  we  hear  in  the  words  of  this  apostle  : 
"A  man's  life  consisteth  not  in  the  abundance  of  the 
things  which  he  possesseth."  And  yet  one  does  be- 
come so  painfully  impressed  with  the  practical  denial 
of  this  truth  which  appears  in  not  a  few  professed 
followers  of  him  who  uttered  it.  So  many  people  are 
restless  and  troubled  because  they  cannot  have  this 


28o  Faith  and  Character. 

or  that.  They  want  a  picture  on  their  walls,  or  an 
ornament  on  their  persons,  or  this  or  that  amuse- 
ment, or  a  house  of  such  a  size  or  in  such  a  place  ; 
and  they  show,  by  the  way  they  fret  and  worry  over 
these  things,  and  by  the  efforts  they  make  to  get 
them,  by  the  foolish  shame  they  manifest  at  not  hav- 
ing them,  and  by  being  absorbed  in  them,  if  they  have 
them,  to  the  neglect  of  better  and  higher  things — they 
show,  I  say,  that  they  believe  that  a  man's  life  does 
consist  in  the  abundance  of  the  things  which  he  pos- 
sesses. They  show  that  they  do  not  believe  that  the 
simple  fact  of  living  by  faith  in  God,  and  with  the 
dear  sense  of  being  God's  child,  is  enough  of  itself  to 
make  blessedness,  and  is  the  one  central  fact  which 
will  put  them  in  right  relation  to  all  possible  circum- 
stances. 

This  kind  of  self-sufficiency  does  not  come  by 
nature.  The  other  kind,  the  worldly  self-sufficiency, 
is  thoroughly  natural.  It  requires  no  school  of  phi- 
losophy to  teach  it.  You  may  see  it  any  day  in  any 
healthy,  manly  boy,  who  laughs  at  the  cautions  of 
his  elders,  and  feels  himself  sufficient  for  all  possible 
emergencies.  But  Christian  self-sufficiency  is  learned 
only  of  Christ,  and  Christ's  favorite  method  of  teach- 
ing is  by  experience.  Paul's  word  here  is  very  sug- 
gestive :  "  I  am  instructed."  It  was  the  word  used  of 
the  long  and  painful  process  of  initiation  into  the  re- 
ligious mysteries  of  Paganism.  **I  have  been  initia- 
ted, through  much  tribulation  ;  through  stripes  and 
imprisonments  ;  through  hunger  and  thirst ;  through 
perils  of  rivers  and  perils  of  robbers  ;  through  stoning 


Christian  Self -Sufficiency,  281 

and  slander  and  shipwreck — I  have  been  initiated 
into  this  divine  mystery  of  being  everywhere,  and 
in  all  things,  self-sufficient,  independent  of  circum- 
stances." 

But  however  painful  the  process,  the  result  can  be 
reached.  Paul  attained  in  this,  nothing  which  is 
not  possible  to  you.  You  can,  simply  through  be- 
ing a  son  of  God  by  faith  in  Jesus  Christ — simply  by 
living  your  life  in  intimacy  with  God,  and  in  depen- 
dence upon  Him,  you  can  have  a  manhood  which 
shall  set  you  above  circumstances  ;  a  self  which  shall 
make  you  master  of  circumstances.  God  is  better 
than  all  His  gifts.  All  His  gifts  are  included  in 
Him.  And  it  is  possible  for  you  to  stand  in  the  uni- 
verse empty-handed  and  alone  with  God,  and  yet  be 
richer  than  all  the  kings  of  the  earth.  The  hunger- 
ing Christ,  refusing  the  kingdoms  of  the  world,  is 
greater  and  richer  than  he  who  offered  him  the 
world's  glory  and  dominion.  I  remember  one  bright 
day  last  summer,  when  I  threaded  my  way  up  through 
the  mountain  glens  to  where  a  plain  little  wooden 
chapel  stood  in  the  midst  of  a  few  scattered  homes  of 
the  poor.  And  I  went  on  to  the  humble  home  of  the 
young  minister  who  had  come  thither  to  work,  know- 
ing well  the  poverty  of  his  flock,  stipulating  for  no 
salary,  but  simply  committing  himself  to  God,  and 
going  cheerfully  about  his  work,  taking  what  God 
sent.  I  found  that  God  sent  a  good  deal  by  various 
channels  in  the  course  of  the  year,  and  the  minister 
said  he  never  had  fared  so  well  in  his  life  as  he  had 
since  God  alone  took  care  of  him. 


282  Faith  and  Character, 

So  when  sorrow  comes,  when  there  has  gone  out 
of  the  life  that  round  which  its  best,  divinest  affec- 
tions had  twined,  there  is  such  a  thing  as  being 
master  of  circumstances  even  then.  I  do  not  mean 
that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  being  insensible  to  sor- 
row, dead  to  the  cruel  sense  of  loss.  A  man  may- 
brace  himself  to  bear  such  sorrow,  and  may  bear  it  in 
silence,  and  shed  no  tears,  yet  feel  the  smart  just  the 
same.  Stoicism  could  do  as  much  as  that.  But  I 
mean  that  a  man  may  have  the  full  sense  of  sorrow, 
and  the  keenness  of  the  pain  of  loss  in  his  heart,  and 
yet  realize  that  there  is  a  part  of  him,  and  that  the 
best  part,  which  the  sorrow  does  not  and  cannot 
reach  ;  that  there  is  a  life  which  he  lives — the  life  hid 
with  Christ  in  God — on  a  high  plane  above  the  mists 
of  earth,  where  God  reveals  Himself  as  the  Father  of 
mercies  and  the  God  of  all  comfort. 

And,  finally,  there  is  a  positive  side  to  this  subject. 
Christian  self-sufficiency,  as  we  have  already  hinted, 
does  not  exhaust  itself  in  mere  endurance.  It  is 
active  and  aggressive.  It  makes  powers  out  of  men. 
It  not  only  does  not  cripple,  it  enlarges  their  resour- 
ces. Paul  says,  '^  I  can  do  all  things  through  Christ 
which  strengtheneth  me." 

On  this  I  have  not  time  to  dwell.  And  now  we 
come  to-day  to  the  very  place  where  we  can  best  learn 
this  lesson,  to  the  table  of  the  Lord.  We  come,  I 
think  I  am  not  mistaken,  with  a  painful  sense  of  our 
own  insufficiency.  Any  one  of  us  can  tell  a  story  of 
how  self  has  tried  great  things  and  has  failed  ;  how 
self  has  plunged  into  great  sorrows  and  has   been 


Christian  Self -Sufficiency,  283 

well  nigh  drowned ;  how  self  has  been  mortified  and 
humiliated ;  how  circumstances  have  gone  against 
us  ;  how  earthly  props  have  broken.  Here,  then,  is 
the  place  to  turn  from  all  this  to  something  better. 
Here  a  voice  speaks  to  us  of  a  sufficiency  which 
will  stand  the  test  of  every  state  ;  everywhere,  in  all 
things.  With  the  infinite  possibilities  of  life  before 
us,  that  is  the  very  thing  we  want.  Nothing  short  of 
this  will  answer.  And  here  it  is  offered  us  in  symbol. 
Christ  says  to  us,  **  Take  me  into  your  life,  not  to  sup- 
plement, but  to  crowd  out  and  supplant  the  old  self. 
Let  your  sufficiency  be  henceforth  of  me.  Read  in 
this  broken  bread  and  outpoured  wine  the  story  of 
one  who  pleased  not  himself,  who  lived  not  by  bread 
but  by  God,  who  was  a  man  of  sorrows,  acquainted 
with  the  worst  the  world  could  heap  on  him,  yet 
whose  manhood  shines  with  all  the  purer  lustre  in 
this  setting  of  poverty  and  shame  ;  who  himself  was 
more,  and  greater,  and  better,  than  all  his  circum- 
stances ;  who,  in  spite  of  his  circumstances,  is  the 
captain  of  our  salvation,  the  theme  of  our  loftiest 
songs,  the  object  of  our  adoration.  May  we  be  like 
him.  He  made  at  least  one  man  able  to  say,  "  I 
have  learned,  in  whatsoever  state  I  am,  therewith  to 
be  self-sufficient."  Has  his  power  exhausted  itself 
with  this  one  ?  Or  does  he  not  rather  say  to  you 
and  to  me  to-day,  **  This  is  the  victory  that  overcom- 
eth  the  world,  even  our  faith  "  ? 


CHRISTIAN    RELATIONS     NOT 
AFTER  THE   FLESH. 


2  CORINTHIANS  V. 
(i6)  Wherefore  henceforth  know  we  no  man  after  the  flesh. 


XVI. 

CHRISTIAN    RELATIONS   NOT  AFTER  THE 
FLESH. 

All  men's  lives  are  traversed  at  some  point  by  a 
sharply-marked  division-line.  Sometimes  it  is  drawn 
at  a  change  of  fortune  ;  sometimes  at  a  change  of 
character  ;  sometimes  at  a  change  of  position.  Across 
it  they  look  back  as  into  another  sphere  of  being,  and 
contemplate  their  life  there  as  better  or  worse,  hap- 
pier or  more  wretched  than  in  the  present  state. 

In  a  Christian  experience  this  line  marks  a  change 
in  the  fundamental  law  of  the  life,  and  is  drawn  at 
conversion.  Looking  back  of  this  point,  the  Chris- 
tian says  :  "  Once  I  was  a  servant  of  sin,  now  I  am  a 
servant  of  Christ.  Once  I  was  in  bondage,  now  I  am 
free.  Once  I  lived  for  self,  now  not  I  live  but  Christ 
liveth  in  me." 

In  this  text  we  strike  such  a  dividing  line  in  Paul's 
experience,  in  the  word  ''henceforth."  This  word 
points  backward  to  a  state  of  things  in  sharp  contrast 
.with  his  present  and  his  future  life.  A  broad  chasm 
is  between  the  past  and  the  present,  and  the  particu- 
lar point  of  contrast  to  which  he  calls  attention  is 
the  new  relation  in  which  the  death  of  Christ  and  his 
own  conversion  place  him  with  reference  to  his  fel- 


288  Faith  and  Character. 

low  men,  and  the  new  way  in  which  he  regards  them. 
However  he  may  have  previously  looked  at  men,  by 
whatever  standards  he  may  have  been  wont  to  meas- 
ure them,  with  whatever  purposes  he  may  have  dealt 
with  them,  henceforth  he  knows  no  man  after  the 
flesh. 

Paul's  way  of  looking  at  men,  therefore,  will  form 
the  subject  of  our  discussion,  as  suggesting  the  true 
point  of  view  from  which  all  Christians  ought  to  re- 
gard their  fellows. 

First,  then,  what  does  the  apostle  mean  by  know- 
ing me^  ** after  the  flesh?"  The  expression  "after 
the  flesh  "  is  a  common  one  in  Paul's  writings,  and 
means,  generally,  according  to  the  natural  way  of  the 
world  ;  according  to  the  principles  of  the  worldly, 
sensual,  sinful  life.  To  know  a  man  after  the  flesh 
is,  therefore,  to  regard  him  solely  in  his  worldly  rela- 
tions to  ourselves  or  to  society.  If  I  regard  a  man  as 
happy  only  because  he  is  rich  or  renowned,  if  I  am 
interested  in  him  only  as  he  ministers  to  my  worldly 
interest,  if  my  kindly  feeling  toward  him  exhausts  it- 
self in  aiding  him  to  fame  or  fortune,  if,  in  short,  I 
have  no  thought  for  him  except  as  he  is  related  to 
this  world,  I  know  him  after  the  flesh. 

We  find  an  illustration  of  Paul's  meaning  in  his 
own  experience.  In  some  of  the  infant  churches, 
notably  in  the  Corinthian  and  Galatian  churches,  he 
was  bitterly  opposed  and  hated  as  the  enemy  of  Juda- 
ism. Judaism  had  degenerated  into  a  mere  form  of 
godliness.  It  was  a  system  of  the  flesh,  and  regarded 
men  solely  with  reference  to  the  flesh.     Was  a  man 


Christian  Relations  not  after  the  Flesh.     289 

circumcised  ?  Did  he  eat  with  Gentiles  ?  Did  he 
keep  the  law  of  Moses  ?  Did  he  observe  Sabbaths 
and  new  moons  ?  Of  what  tribe  and  family  was  he  ? 
In  what  school  was  he  educated  ?  These  were  the 
important  questions. 

From  all  this  Paul  cut  himself  loose.  He  refused 
to  look  at  men  in  this  way.  Forms  and  ordinances, 
he  tells  them,  are  nothing.  ''Why,"  he  says  to  the 
Colossians,  ''as  though  living  in  the  world,  are  ye 
subject  to  ordinances,  after  the  commandments  and 
doctrines  of  men,  for  the  satisfying  of  the  flesh  ? 
Circumcision  profiteth  nothing.  As  many  as  desire 
to  make  a  fair  show  in  the  flesh,  they  constrain  you 
to  be  circumcised.  Men  are  not  to  be  estimated  ac- 
cording to  their  nation  or  their  family."  Those  are 
true  Israelites,  he  tells  the  Philippians,  who  worship 
God  in  the  spirit,  and  have  no  confidence  in  the  flesh  ; 
and  he  goes  on  to  show  them  how  completely  he  him- 
self had  relinquished  all  advantages  growing  out  of 
his  lineage  and  standing  in  the  Jewish  Church.  "  The 
flesh  !  Would  you  urge  on  7ne  the  claims  of  the  flesh  ? 
If  the  flesh  counted  for  anything,  which  of  you  could 
boast  of  it  more  than  myself  ?  I  was  of  direct  Israel- 
itish  descent — no  heathen  proselyte  nor  Ishmaelite. 
I  was  indeed  a  Jew,  as  distinguished  from  a  Gentile, 
a  Hebrew  as  distinguished  from  a  Greek-speaking- 
Jew  ;  but  more  than  all  I  was  an  Israelite,  descended 
not  from  Jacob,  the  supplanter,  but  from  Israel,  the 
prince  of  God.  I  was  of  the  honored  tribe  of  Benja- 
min, the  only  tribe  which  stood  by  Judah  in  the  great 
separation.  I  was  a  Hebrew,  never  forsaking  my  na- 
13 


290  Faith  a?id  Character. 

tive  tongue.  I  belonged  to  the  slraitest  sect  of  legal- 
ists. I  was  a  zealous  persecutor  of  Christianity.  I 
kept  the  law  blamelessly.  But  I  threw  all  these  things 
away.  My  manhood  in  Christ  consists  in  none  of 
these.  These  worldly  advantages  I  counted  loss  for 
Christ,  and  so  I  value  no  man  for  these  things.  I  test 
him  by  a  different  standard.  I  labor  to  secure  for 
him  other  and  better  things.  I  know  no  man  after 
the  flesh." 

And  Paul  only  puts  in  another  way  the  words  of 
the  Saviour :  "  If  any  man  come  to  me,  and  hate  not 
his  father,  and  mother,  and  wife,  and  children,  and 
brethren,  and  sisters,  yea,  and  his  own  life  also,  he 
cannot  be  my  disciple."  A  strict  literalist  might  say  : 
*'  What,  does  Christ  here  teach  men  to  trample  upon 
those  sacred  domestic  ties  to  which  God  has  given 
the  highest  sanction  ? "  Christ,  himself,  if  such  a 
question  needs  an  answer,  answered  it  by  being  the 
best  of  sons,  and  the  most  tender  and  affectionate  of 
friends.  What  he  means  is,  that  these  relations,  and 
other  similar  ones  which  his  disciple  sustains  toward 
the  world,  are  all  to  be  subordinated  to  the  higher 
law  of  his  service.  He  honored  these  natural  ties, 
but  he  plainly  foresaw  that  they  inigJit  clash  at  some 
point  with  duty  to  him,  and  so  he  laid  down  the  law, 
providing  that  in  every  such  case  the  lower  relation 
of  husband  or  son  or  brother  should  give  way  to  the 
higher  relation  to  Christ.  If  a  wife  should  refuse  to 
go  after  Christ  with  her  husband,  he  must  go  alone, 
and  not  refuse  to  follow  him  for  her  sake.  If  a 
Jewish  father   should   give   his   son   the   alternative 


Christian  Relations  Jiot  after  the  Flesh.     291 

between  disinheritance  and  denying  Christ,  the  son 
must  cleave  to  Christ.  In  short,  the  law  of  Christ 
stood  ready  to  take  up  into  itself  these  human  rela- 
tionships, to  sanctify  and  ennoble  them,  and  make 
them  serve  its  own  divine  ends  ;  but,  if  they  would 
not  submit  to  be  thus  taken  up,  they  must  give  way 
at  every  issue  to  the  claims  of  Christ. 

Therefore  it  was  in  this  sense  that  Paul  knew  no 
man  after  the  flesh.  He  did  not,  as  an  anointed  apos- 
tle, affect  to  despise  the  claims  of  kindred  or  of  friend- 
ship. He  loved  his  country  and  his  countrymen  ;  but 
all  these  things  went  for  nothing  when  the  gospel  of 
Christ  was  in  question.  The  moment  they  came  into 
collision  with  that,  they  were,  to  use  his  own  strong 
words,  ''counted  as  refuse."  He  knew  Peter,  for  in- 
stance, after  the  flesh,  as  a  friend.  He  respected  him 
as  a  man  of  talent  and  energy  ;  but  the  moment  that 
Peter  began  to  compromise  the  liberty  of  the  gospel, 
and  to  yield  to  the  demand  of  the  Judaizers  that 
Christian  converts  should  be  circumcised,  he  with- 
stood him  to  the  face,  and  openly  rebuked  his  coward- 
ice before  the  brethren. 

Thus  much  for  the  negative  side  of  the  subject. 
We  have  seen  how  Paul  did  not  know  men  after  the 
flesh.      How,  then,  did  he  know  them  ? 

The  answer  is  found  in  the  two  verses  just  preced- 
ing, which  ought  to  be  carefully  studied  in  connection 
with  the  text.  Let  us  read  them  :  ''  For  the  love  of 
Christ  constraineth  us  ;  because  we  thus  judge,  that  if 
one  died  for  all,  then  were  all  dead  :  and  that  he  died 
for  all,  that  they  which  live  should  not  henceforth 


292  Faith  and  Character. 

live  unto  themselves,  but  unto  him  which  died  for 
them,  and  rose  again.  Wherefore  henceforth  know 
we  no  man  after  the  flesh."  That  is  to  say,  the  great 
fact  which  now  regulates  my  views  of  men,  and  my 
dealings  with  them,  is  the  fact  that  Christ  died  for 
them  to  make  their  lives  unselfish  and  Christlike. 
I  look  at  a  man  first  as  a  man  whom  Christ  died  to 
save  and  purify.  My  first  great  question  concerning 
him  respects  not  his  circumstances,  but  his  character 
as  related  to  Christ.  Is  he  a  saved  man  ?  Has  he 
died  to  self  ?  Is  he  living  unto  him  who  died  for  him 
and  rose  again  ?  According  to  the  answer  to  this 
question  I  count  him  safe  or  in  danger  ;  happy  or 
miserable  ;  rich  or  poor.  If  he  be  not  a  Christian, 
the  chief  element  of  sympathy  between  him  and  me  is 
lacking.  If  he  be  not  a  Christian,  the  chief  object 
of  my  labors  must  be  to  bring  him  to  Christ  with 
penitence  and  faith.  He  may  be  rich  in  goods,  high 
in  honor,  endowed  with  intellectual  gifts,  abounding 
in  friends,  strict  in  religious  formalities  ;  but  these 
things  are  of  the  flesh,  and  I  know  no  man  after  the 
flesh. 

Is  there  anything  unnatural  or  fanatical  in  this  ? 
When  a  man  stands  in  some  peculiar  relation  to  a 
great  event,  what  an  interest  he  assumes  in  our  eyes. 
The  commonest  soldier  who  rode  in  the  charge  of  the 
six  hundred  at  Balaklava,  would  draw  to  himself  the 
eyes  of  the  proudest  assembly  in  England.  A  few 
months  ago  a  political  convention  nominated  for  the 
presidency  of  this  nation  a  man  of  whom  the  great 
mass  of  the  population  knew  nothing,  but  from  the 


Christian  Relations  not  after  the  Flesh.     293 

moment  his  name  was  flashed  along  the  wires,  how 
the  eyes  of  the  whole  nation,  of  all  parties,  were 
turned  upon  him  ;  what  an  interest  attached  to  all 
the  items  of  his  personal  history,  to  his  personal  hab- 
its, to  his  domestic  life. 

Shall  we  then  challenge  the  interest  aroused  in 
such  a  man  as  Paul  toward  the  meanest  and  obscur- 
est of  mankind,  when  he  wakes  up  to  the  fact  that 
that  soul  is  directly  contemplated  by  such  a  stupen- 
dous event  as  the  death  of  Jesus  Christ — that  those 
groans,  that  streaming  blood,  that  agony  of  cross  and 
thorn  and  spear,  were  directly  and  distinctly  for  that 
man's  salvation  ?  Shall  we  challenge  Paul's  interest, 
I  say  ?  Ah,  the  interest  reaches  far  higher  than  Paul. 
The  most  wretched  pagan  creature  in  the  remotest 
island  of  the  sea  does  not  weep  tears  of  penitence 
for  his  sins,  that  heaven  is  not  aglow  with  rapture. 
The  whole  circle  of  heavenly  intelligences  is  drawn 
into  the  circle  of  that  fact,  and  rejoices  over  it.  The 
Bible,  at  least,  does  not  tell  us  of  heaven's  joy  over 
any  worldly  success  or  triumph.  Heaven's  interest 
in  man  is  essentially  a  moral  interest.  There  is  no 
hint  of  joy  in  heaven  over  the  birth  of  the  heir  to  any 
earthly  crown  ;  over  the  acquisition  of  the  largest 
fortune.  But  the  moment  a  soul  moves  to  put  itself 
in  right  relation  to  God  through  Christ,  that  moment 
heaven  thrills. 

Now  let  us  bring  the  apostle's  thought  home  to 
ourselves.  What  is  it  that  most  interests  us  in  the 
men  around  us  ?  We  know  very  well  that  we  are 
naturally  inclined  to  look  upon  them  chiefly  as  they 


294  Faith  and  Character. 

stand  related  to  our  self-interest,  or  to  our  personal 
affection,  or  to  our  pride  in  their  success.  We  con- 
sider whether  their  personal  qualities  are  agreeable 
or  otherwise  ;  whether  their  learning  will  minister  to 
our  culture,  or  their  accomplishments  to  our  enter- 
tainment. Or  w^e  ask,  ''  What  is  their  pedigree  ?  In 
what  circle  do  they  move  ?  What  are  they  worth  ? 
How  much  do  they  signify  ''on  change?"  In  how 
many  of  our  minds  are  such  questions  overtopped  by 
the  great,  vital  question,  *'Do  they  believe  on  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  ?  "  How  many  of  us  have  ceased 
to  know  them  after  the  flesh,  and  see  them  first  and 
chiefly  as  immortal  souls,  shapers  of  destinies,  mak- 
ers of  character,  radiators  of  influence,  possible  shar- 
ers of  heavenly  glory,  possible  aliens  from  the  pres- 
ence of  God  ? 

There  are  our  children.  The  natural  fleshy  rela- 
tion thrusts  itself  into  the  foreground.  The  thought 
which  first  forces  itself  upon  us  is  that  they  are  oiirs^ 
*'bone  of  ovir  bone  and  flesh  of  our  flesh."  The  first 
period  of  their  lives  emphasizes  the  fleshly  relation, 
calling,  as  it  does,  almost  exclusively  for  fleshly  min- 
istries, for  the  tender  care  and  nourishment  of  the  in- 
fant body  ;  for  the  piloting  of  the  infant  life  among 
the  quicksands  of  disease  and  accident ;  and  as  in- 
fancy develops  into  childhood  and  youth,  these  flesh- 
ly claims  multiply.  Not  only  food  and  drink  and 
clothing,  but  education,  intellectual  culture,  prepara- 
tion for  business,  providing  of  capital,  forming  right 
connections,  press  themselves  upon  our  attention. 
Rightly  enough,  if  we  take  heed  of  the  danger  which 


Christian  Relations  not  after  the  Flesh.     295 

lurks  in  these,  if  we  do  not  let  these  swallow  up  all 
other  considerations,  if  we  do  not  put  these  first. 
For  if  Christ  be  right,  the  thing  which  most  concerns 
our  children  is  precisely  the  thing  which  most  con- 
cerns us — their  right  relation  to  the  Lord  who  bought 
them.  Their  life  is  wrong  along  its  whole  line,  in- 
creasingly wrong,  if  it  do  not  start  from  God  in 
Christ.  If  they  are  ours,  they  are  His  before  they 
become  ours,  and  it  is  a  strange  oversight  indeed,  if 
we  overlook  His  proprietorship.  Not,  I  repeat,  that 
we  are  to  make  light  of  the  demands  of  their  bodies 
and  of  their  minds,  but  all  these  ministries  must  be 
brought  into  the  sphere  of  one  controlling  motive, 
that  is,  that  they  should  not  live  unto  themselves, 
but  unto  Him  who  died  for  them  and  rose  again. 
Xhis  higher  sphere  of  ministry  will  not  only  include 
all  necessary  lower  ministries,  but  will  prompt  them, 
regulate  them,  keep  them  in  their  place,  and  make 
them  contribute  most  effectively  to  perfect  manhood. 
Or  look  at  those  who  minister  to  our  minds,  the 
creators  of  our  science  and  literature.  How  shall  we 
know  them  ?  Are  they  out  of  the  range  of  this  pre- 
cept to  know  no  man  after  the  flesh,  because  they 
deal  with  mind  rather  than  with  matter  ?  Are  cul- 
tured men  necessarily  good  men,  or  is  knowledge  so 
spiritual  a  thing  that  the  taint  of  the  flesh  cannot 
reach  it  ?  Not  so,  indeed.  We  shall  know  these 
masters  of  thought  after  the  flesh,  if  we  shall  know 
them  only  as  the  enlargers  of  our  worldly  knowledge, 
and  the  trainers  of  our  natural  reason,  and  if  we  do 
not  look  beyond  to  see  what  they  can  do  for  charac- 


296  Faith  and  Character, 

ten  Literature  is  not  exempt  from  Christian  minis- 
try. Men  of  thought  are  not  out  of  the  sphere  of  the 
command,  "  Whatsoever  ye  do,  do  all  to  the  glory  of 
God."  Genius  and  culture,  if  they  obey  Christ's  law, 
must  fall  in  with  all  other  agencies  to  make  men  mor- 
ally better  ;  and  they  fulfil  God's  purpose  just  to  the 
degree  in  which  they  issue  in  character.  What  I 
mean  then  is,  that  our  communion  with  great  minds 
through  books,  all  our  reading  and  study,  is  to  be 
looked  at  from  this  standpoint,  and  not  merely  as  a 
means  to  our  knowing  more  and  becoming  more  pop- 
ular or  more  successful  in  the  world  :  that  we  should 
learn  to  choose  our  authors  with  a  view  first  to  the 
building  up  of  our  characters,  and  to  the  making 
ourselves  moral  forces  in  society.  We  read  much  in 
these  days,  and  knowledge  passes  for  so  good  and 
pure  a  thing  in  itself,  that  we  are  in  danger  of  forget- 
ting that,  like  other  things,  it  will  develop  selfish, 
godless,  fleshly  properties,  if  it  be  not  sanctified  by 
Christ's  touch. 

Or  there  are  our  neighbors.  We  know  them  after 
the  flesh — as  good  friends,  delightful  companions,  use- 
ful helpers.  We  meet  and  exchange  comments  on 
stocks  and  banking.  We  discuss  books  and  pictures. 
We  are  anxious  for  them  if  a  wife  or  a  child  is  sick,  and 
deeply  sympathizing  when  death  or  disaster  comes  to 
their  home.  Yet  how  far  beyond  the  flesh  does  our 
interest  reach  ?  Do  we  not  often  ignore  the  fact 
which  overarches  all  these  things,  the  fact  that  they 
are  immortal  souls,  on  their  way  to  Christ's  judg- 
ment-seat, laid  by  Christ's  death  under  the  most  sol- 


Christian  Relations  not  after  the  Flesh.     297 

emn  moral  obligations,  their  most  vital  interests 
hanging  on  their  acceptance  or  rejection  of  Christ's 
offered  sacrifice,  the  great  destinies  of  character 
bound  up  with  their  relation  to  that  fact?  Do  we 
know  them  at  all  in  this  sense  ?  Do  we  know  wheth- 
er they  are  children  of  God  or  not  ?  Have  we  ever 
sought  to  know  ?  Do  we  care  whether  they  are  shar- 
ers in  the  grace  of  life,  or  strangers  to  the  immortal 
hope  of  the  gospel  ?  Where  is  the  practical  demon- 
stration of  our  professed  faith  that  the  kingdom  of 
God  and  His  righteousness  have  the  right  to  the  first 
place  in  man's  life  ?  What  does  our  acceptance  of 
Christ's  sacrifice  mean  to  us,  if  it  does  not  commit  us 
to  knowing  men  first,  not  after  the  flesh,  but  as  sub- 
jects of  redeeming  love  and  power  ? 

And  again,  as  regards  ourselves.  There  is  a  man 
or  a  woman  whom  we  know — not  yet  as  a  realized 
creation,  but  as  something  away  on  before  us — the 
creature  of  our  hope  and  desire,  the  ideal  man  or 
woman  in  short  who  we  would  fain  be.  We  have 
drawn  the  portrait  for  ourselves  many  a  time,  and 
each  time  have  added  some  new  line  or  some  fresh 
tint.  What  then  is  our  ideal  of  manhood  ?  Is  this 
ideal  which  we  have  come  to  know  so  well,  merely  a 
thing  of  the  flesh  ?  Already,  my  young  friend,  you 
have  marked  out  a  career  for  yourself.  Perhaps  you 
see  yourself  in  fancy  a  man  to  whose  power  the  world 
bows,  a  woman  whose  mark  on  society  is  deep.  But 
supposing  your  ideal  realized,  I  ask  you  what  it  is 
to  which  the  world  is  to  bow  ?  Are  you  first,  to  rep- 
resent to  it  wealth,  intellect,  beauty,  or  character  ?    Is 


298  Faith  and  Character. 

your  ideal  man  the  literary  man,  the  man  of  pleasure, 
the  man  of  capital  ?  Is  your  ideal  woman  the  woman 
of  fashion  ?  Ah  !  if  that  be  so,  you  are  leaving  out 
that  which  God  would  put  first ;  just  that  very  thing 
which  Christ  so  yearned  to  bring  into  your  life,  that 
he  gave  his  life  for  you.  Your  ideal  man  of  the  flesh 
carries  the  seeds  of  death  and  corruption  in  him.  You 
may  reach  your  ideal  indeed  ;  but  you  will  reach  it 
only  to  find  that  the  ideal  itself  is  debased,  that  man- 
hood or  womanhood  which  leaves  out  of  itself  conse- 
cration, ministry,  sacrifice,  self-death,  is  of  the  poor- 
est quality,  and  to  learn,  with  bitter  disappointment, 
that  ''he  that  soweth  to  the  flesh,  shall  of  the  flesh 
reap  corruption." 

And  yet,  as  we  have  already  hinted,  the  apostle's 
principle  does  not  take  us  out  of  the  sphere  of  natu- 
ral affection,  nor  destroy  the  ordinary  relations  of  life. 
The  gospel  law  does  indeed  insist  on  being  supreme 
over  all  these,  and  on  regulating  them  all  ;  and  in  the 
event  of  an  issue  betAveen  it  and  them,  they  must  give 
way.  But  if  they  will  come  under  its  absolute  dicta- 
tion, there  is  no  human  affection  that  will  not  be  en- 
nobled and  deepened  ;  no  relation  of  life  which  will 
not  be  dignified  and  enriched.  A  man  will  be  none 
the  less  a  patriot  for  being  a  Christian.  The  spirit 
of  Christ  may  refine  and  correct  his  patriotism  ;  it 
may  make  it  less  feverish  and  more  intelligent ;  but 
it  will  deepen  the  sentiment  itself  ;  and  when  that 
man  strikes  for  his  country,  conscience  and  love  to 
God  will  set  his  patriotism  on  fire  and  make  him 
strong  and  terrible.     See  how   this  very  Paul  loved 


Christian  Relations  not  after  the  Flesh.     299 

his  countrymen,  even  while  he  was  fighting  with  all 
his  power  their  perv^erted  patriotism,  their  national 
exclusiveness  and  intolerance.  Where,  in  all  litera- 
ture, is  there  the  expression  of  a  nobler,  deeper  patri- 
otism than  in  his  words  to  the  Romans?  '*  I  have 
great  heaviness  and  continual  sorrow  in  my  heart. 
For  I  could  wish  that  myself  were  accursed  from 
Christ  for  my  brethren,  my  kinsmen  according  to 
the  flesh,  who  are  Israelites."  This  from  the  man 
who  knows  no  man  after  the  flesh.  The  husband 
and  wife  who,  to  their  mutual  human  love  add  the 
new  interest  in  each  other's  souls  awakened  by  the 
spirit  of  God,  know,  for  the  first  time,  the  full  sweet- 
ness of  conjugal  affection.  Their  whole  life  is  lifted 
to  a  higher  plane  ;  they  are  drawn  together  by  the 
common  pursuit  of  new  aims,  by  their  interest  in 
new  duties,  and  by  their  common  joy  in  the  love  of 
Christ.  The  son  who  forsakes  father  and  mother  to 
give  his  life  to  the  heathen,  reaches,  through  that  very 
sacrifice  for  Christ's  sake,  the  very  highest  grade  of 
filial  love,  even  as  the  affection  of  the  parents  who 
surrender  him  is  infinitely  exalted.  A  new  sacred- 
ness  of  love  gathers  around  that  which  we  have 
wholly  given  to  Christ.  I  have  never  seen  this  so 
beautifully  illustrated  as  in  the  life  of  John  Cole- 
ridge Pattieson,  the  English  Bishop  of  Melanesia.  In 
his  early  manhood  he  gave  himself  to  the  work  of  the 
gospel  in  the  islands  of  the  Pacific.  The  affection 
between  himself  and  his  father  was  singularly  strong. 
He  was  the  prop  of  his  father's  age,  the  very  light  of 
his  eyes  ;  and  when  his  wish  was  first  made  known, 


300  Faith  and  Character. 

the  old  man's  heart  was  well-nigh  broken.  He  ex- 
claimed :  ''  I  can't  let  him  go :"  and  then  faith  came 
to  the  rescue,  and  he  caught  back  the  words,  saying  : 
*^God  forbid  I  should  stop  him.  I  give  him  wholly, 
not  with  any  thought  of  seeing  him  again.  I  will  not 
have  him  thinking  he  must  come  home  again  to  see 
me."  He  never  did  come  home.  He  labored  there 
for  seventeen  years,  and  six  years  ago  was  killed  dur- 
ing a  visit  to  one  of  the  islands,  but  the  love  between 
father  and  son  grew,  through  that  mutual  sacrifice, 
into  something  almost  too  sacred  to  be  committed  to 
the  pages  of  a  book.  The  father,  in  his  letters  to 
friends,  expresses  his  growing  thankfulness  that  he 
gave  him  to  the  heathen.  The  son  enlists  the  father's 
heart  in  the  work,  and  begs  him,  in  case  he  should 
survive  him,  to  give  his  inheritance  to  the  mission. 
He  writes  home,  after  five  years  of  absence  :  ''The 
first  freshness  of  my  loss  is  not  felt  now.  But  I  think 
I  love  them  all  and  you  all  better  than  ever  ;  and  I 
trust  that  I  am  looking  inward  on  the  whole  to  the 
blessedness  of  our  meeting  hereafter."  And  on  the 
evening  after  his  consecration  as  bishop,  he  writes : 
*'  Oh,  my  dear,  dear  father,  God  will  bless  you  for  all 
your  love  to  me,  and  your  love  to  Him  in  giving  me 
to  His  service." 

*'  Wherefore,  henceforth  know  we  no  man  after  the 
flesh."  My  brethren,  is  this  the  utterance  of  a  vain 
enthusiasm,  or  of  an  ignorant  fanaticism  ?  You  know 
that  he  who  spake  it  was  no  ignorant  child  of  impulse, 
but  one  of  God's  strong  men,  ripe  in  wisdom,  thorough 
in  discipline,  profoundly  versed  in  the  knowledge  of 


Christian  Relations  not  after  the  Flesh.      301 

men,  and  as  wary- and  cautious  as  he  was  ardent.  His 
life  is  on  record  for  us  as  a  practical  comment  upon 
this  principle ;  and  it  requires  no  laborious  study  to 
discover  that  his  first  and  highest  consideration  in 
dealing  with  men  was  their  relation  to  his  crucified 
Lord.  Whatever  else  men  were  to  him,  they  were 
first  of  all  subjects  of  Christ's  dying  love.  Whatever 
else  he  might  desire  for  them,  he  longed  and  labored 
before  all  to  bring  them  through  repentance  and  faith 
into  living  union  with  him  who  died  for  them  and 
rose  again.  And  if  it  was  practicable  for  him  to  live 
and  work  by  that  law,  is  it  not  equally  practicable 
for  us  ?  Can  we,  dare  we  as  Christians  look  upon 
men  from  any  lower  point  of  view  ?  What  does 
our  church  fellowship  in  the  name  of  Christ  mean, 
if  it  do  not  mean  that  we  know  men  first  of  all  in 
their  relations  to  Christ  ?  What  do  we  exist  for,  if 
it  be  not  to  carry  this  truth  ?  The  true  church  of 
Christ  is  no  fleshly  body  ;  it  is  a  spiritual  body  with 
Christ  as  its  head.  It  does  not  work  healthfully,  ac- 
cording to  its  primal  organic  law,  if  its  energy  in 
ever)'  part  is  not  concentrated  upon  bringing  men 
into  right  relations  with  Christ,  and  developing  those 
relations  when  formed.  We  are  not  to  know  men 
after  the  flesh.  We  are  not  banded  together  for  our 
common  entertainment,  for  the  gratification  of  our 
curiosity,  for  the  excitement  of  transient  emotion,  for 
the  encouragement  of  religious  sensuousness,  for  the 
promotion  of  social  or  professional  ambitions — for  no 
such  fleshly  ends  are  we  a  church.  We  are  to  look 
upon  society  as  something  which  is  to  be  brought  into 


302  Faith  and  Character. 

the  spirit  and  life  of  Christ.  We  are  to  look  upon 
absence  from  Christ  as  the  root  of  all  human  misery. 
We  are  to  look  upon  the  gospel  of  Christ  as  the  only 
agency  which  goes  to  the  root  of  human  sin  and  of 
human  need,  and,  abandoning  all  human  schemes 
of  moral  reform,  we  must  cleave  to  the  gospel  and 
the  gospel  only,  wielding  it  with  all  the  might  which 
God  shall  give  us,  in  the  settled  assurance  that  it  is 
the  power  of  God  unto  salvation.  But  we  shall  not 
do  this  until  we  cease  to  know  men  after  the  flesh. 
We  shall  not  work  the  appliances  of  the  gospel  at 
their  highest  power,  until  the  conviction  has  taken 
deep  root  in  our  hearts  that  society's  first  and  great- 
est need  is  Christ.  May  God  fill  us  with  the  sense 
of  this  need.  May  He  help  us  to  concentrate  our 
energy  upon  the  highest  development  of  the  gospel 
agencies  at  our  command.  I  do  believe,  yea,  I  know, 
that  the  church  of  this  day  is  scattering  and  wasting 
her  power,  under  the  delusion  that  society  has  many 
needs ;  whereas  all  its  needs  are  summed  up  in  one. 
One  work  is  before  us,  and  only  one.  That  belongs 
not  to  outside  forces,  not  to  reform  associations,  but 
to  the  church  of  Jesus  Christ,  which  is  "  his  body, 
the  fulness  of  Him  that  filleth  all  in  all  : "  that  work 
is  to  preach  the  gospel  of  faith  and  repentance  to 
men  and  to  live  it  ourselves.  If  we  do  this,  the 
church  will  be  as  a  fruitful  vine. 


MEAT   OR   DRUDGERY. 


JOHN   IV. 

(34)  Jesus  saith  unto  them,  My  meat  is  to  do  the  will  of  Him 
that  sent  me,  and  to  finish  His  work. 


XVII. 

MEAT   OR   DRUDGERY. 

Christ  Avas  resting  from  his  journey  at  the  well  of 
Samaria.  He  was  alone  ;  his  disciples  having  gone 
into  the  city  to  procure  refreshment.  Weary  though 
he  was,  however,  he  would  not  lose  the  opportunity 
to  *' win  a  soul."  His  repose  was  soon  broken  by  the 
approach  of  a  woman  of  the  city  who  had  come  out 
to  draw  water.  Undeterred  by  her  ignorance,  her 
degradation,  her  superstitious  prejudices,  he  unfolded 
to  her  the  great  central  truth  of  spiritual  religion. 

In  his  holy  zeal  he  seems  to  have  forgotten  for  the 
time  his  weariness  and  hunger ;  so  that  when  his 
disciples  returned  with  food,  and  urged  him  to  par- 
take, he  replied,  *'  I  have  meat  to  eat  which  ye  know 
not  of  ; "  and  when  he  saw  that  they  understood  his 
words  literally,  and  supposed  that  some  one  had 
brought  him  food  in  their  absence,  he  explained  him- 
self by  showing  them  how  '^a  higher  spiritual  joy  had 
suspended  all  sense  of  a  lower  bodily  necessity."  He 
did  not  mean  that  he  was  sustained  by  a  miracle. 
The  woman  had  hurried  back  to  the  town,  and  had 
told  her  story  with  such  power  that  crowds  were 
already  streaming  out  of  the  gate  and  hastening  to 
the  well.     ''As  his  thirst,"  to  use  another's  words, 


306  Faith  and  Character. 

*^  had  been  not  so  much  after  the  water  of  Jacob's 
well  as  after  her  conversion  who  had  come  to  draw 
w^ater  thence,  so  now  his  hunger  is  not  for  the  food 
which  they  have  prepared,  but  for  those  whom  he 
beholds  already  hastening  from  the  neighboring  city, 
that  they  may  hear  and  receive  his  word."  ^  This  was 
w^hat  he  meant  by  the  words,  "my  meat  is  to  do  the 
will  of  Him  that  sent  me."  The  lesson  which  he 
wished  to  give  the  disciples,  and  which  is  our  lesson 
to-day,  w^as  the  satisfying  joy  which  lies  in  duty. 

But  let  us  not,  in  the  first  place,  mistake  our 
Lord's  words  as  some  have  done,  as  exalting  activity 
to  the  neglect  of  the  conditions  of  the  spiritual  life, 
as  if  the  words  "  my  meat  is  to  ^<7,"  set  forth  the 
whole  of  Christianity.  A  little  study  of  the  conver- 
sation with  the  woman  will  guard  us  against  this 
error.  She  was  under  a  kindred  mistake.  She 
thought  that  religion  consisted  in  observance ;  she 
must  worship  God  on  Gerizim  and  not  on  Moriah  ; 
she  must  have  nothing  to  do  with  Jews.  She  thought 
that  the  deepest  need  of  her  life  could  be  relieved  by 
some  magical  water  which  this  stranger  possessed,  so 
that  she  should  no  longer  feel  thirst,  nor  be  troubled 
with  the  daily  drudgery  of  drawing  water.  Jesus 
showed  her,  by  using  the  well  itself  as  a  figure,  that 
what  she  needed,  first  of  all,  was  a  new  principle  of 
life  in  her  soul  ;  not  a  change  of  circumstances,  but 
a  change  of  character;  and  what  he  then  said  to  her 
he  says  to  us,  namely,  that  we  must  be  right  before 


'  Trench,  "  Studies  in  the  Gospels." 


Meat  or  Drudgery.  307 

our  doing  will  be  right  ;  that  it  is  only  the  man  in 
whose  heart  God  dwells,  who  does  the  will  of  God  ; 
that  the  active  outflowings  of  the  life  must  spring 
from  that  fountain  of  water  which  is  in  every  true 
child  of  faith,  springing  up  into  everlasting  life. 

The  tendency  of  religious  thought  for  some  years 
past  has  been  to  exalt  work.  This  has  grown  in  part 
out  of  the  enormous  needs  which  have  forced  them- 
selves on  the  attention  of  Christians,  and  partly  out 
of  a  reaction  from  a  morbid,  self-contemplative,  brood- 
ing, and  speculative  type  of  piety.  In  many  ways 
this  reaction  was  healthful.  It  stimulated  the  church 
to  enterprise  and  liberality,  made  her  more  aggres- 
sive, and  more  familiar  with  the  world's  needs.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  tended  and  ran  to  a  dangerous  ex- 
treme. In  the  vigor  and  variety  of  action,  the  true 
motive  power  of  Christian  action  fell  into  the  shade. 
In  their  zeal  to  do,  men  forgot  that  out  of  their  hearts 
were  the  issues  of  life,  and  neglected  to  keep  their 
hearts  with  all  diligence.  They  began  to  substitute 
work  for  prayer,  and  sometimes  to  cajole  conscience 
with  the  poetic  prettiness  that  ''to  labor  is  to  pray." 
And  it  came  to  pass  thus  that  many  a  man  concealed 
real  spiritual  poverty,  prayerlessness,  uneasiness  of 
conscience,  want  of  peace  with  God,  under  stirring 
activity  in  Christian  enterprise.  Under  cover  of  this 
terrible  fallacy,  legitimate  impulses  to  duty  were  be- 
ing weakened  while  so-called  duty  was  being  done. 
Men  were  building  reputations  for  Christian  activity 
upon  foundations  which  were  rotting  beneath  them. 
They  were  conducting  Sunday-schools,  and  organiz- 


308  Faith  and  Character. 

ing  societies,  nnd  promoting  conventions,  saying 
"Lord,  Lord,"  and  doing  many  wonderful  Avorks, 
when  they  knew  not  the  secret  of  the  Lord.  You  are 
seeing  some  of  the  fruits  of  that  fallacy  now.  The 
tests  of  these  aw^ful  days  are  probing  deeper  than 
men's  activities.  They  are  cutting  down  into  the 
secret  places  of  character.  It  is  coming  to  light  how 
much  so-called  religious  energy  was  the  fruit  of  nat- 
ural enthusiasm  and  love  of  action,  of  the  instinct  of 
organizing  and  leading,  and  how  much  of  true  love 
and  faith  and  solid,  godly  principle. 

Therefore,  in  discussing  this  passage  we  must  not 
lose  sight  of  its  connection  with  what  precedes.  It 
does  set  forth  to  us  Jesus  as  a  worker,  but  it  equally 
sets  forth  the  work  as  the  natural  outcome  of  a  soul 
at  one  with  God.  It  does  hold  up  to  us  doing  as  the 
very  meat  of  a  child  of  God,  but  it  is  a  doing  which 
is  impelled  by  a  will  informed  throughout  by  the  will 
of  God. 

This  being  guarded,  w^e  may  now  go  on  to  the  spe- 
cific truth  of  the  text,  which  is  that  Christ  is  our  ex- 
ample in  finding  a  perfect  joy  in  duty.  The  practi- 
cal question  which  is  thrust  upon  us  is,  what  makes 

THE  DIFFERENCE  BETWEEN  DUTY  AS  MEAT  AND  DUTY  AS 
DRUDGERY  ? 

You  are  perfectly  familiar  with  this  difference  in 
ordinary  life.  We  probably  have  all  known  what  it 
is  to  do  a  thing  faithfully  and  persistently,  because  it 
must  be  done,  without  having  any  interest  in  it  be- 
yond getting  it  out  of  the  way  as  quickly  as  possible. 
You  have  seen  a  man  whose  education  and  tastes  fit 


Meat  or  Drudgery,  309 

him  for  literary  pursuits  and  society,  plodding  over  a 
set  of  books,  or  selling  goods  over  a  counter,  because 
it  was  a  matter  of  bread.  You  know  how  Charles 
Lamb  has  interpreted  that  fearful  sense  of  drudgery 
in  his  little  essay,  ''The  Superannuated  Man,"  the 
story  of  his  final  deliverance  from  the  book-keeper's 
desk,  after  thirty-six  years,  in  which  the  wood  had 
"eaten  into  his  soul."  You  recognize  the  contrast  at 
once  with  a  man  whose  business  is  the  congenial  ele- 
ment of  his  life  ;  who  rejoices  in  the  contact  with 
men,  the  rivalry  of  trade,  the  keen  encounter  of  wits, 
and  the  sense  of  power  in  handling  great  financial  or 
mercantile  combinations. 

A  man  whose  heart  is  really  in  a  thing  always  has 
a  large  surplus  in  his  doing.  There  is  a  wide  margin 
around  the  limits  of  his  necessary  tasks.  He  is  so 
full  of  the  thing  that  he  inevitably  runs  over  on  all 
sides.  There,  for  instance,  are  two  students  of  chem- 
istry. One  of  them  goes  through  the  text-books  and 
lectures  because  his  course  of  study  requires  it.  He 
learns  what  is  set  him,  while  he  would  much  rather 
be  studying  the  classics  or  history  ;  and  he  passes 
his  examination  without  censure,  but  without  special 
credit.  You  ask  the  professor  about  the  other  student, 
and  his  eye  kindles.  "  That  fellow  !  Why,  chemistry 
is  meat  and  drink  to  him.  It  is  hard  for  me  to  give 
him  enough  to  do.  He  keeps  ahead  of  the  lectures 
all  the  time."  And  as  you  watch  the  young  man,  you 
see  that  he  is  forever  hanging  about  the  chemical  lec- 
ture-room. He  is  on  intimate  terms  with  the  pro- 
fessor.    He   stays   after   hours,   and  asks   questions. 


310  Faith  and  CJiaracter. 

You  go  to  his  room,  and  you  find  that  he  has  set  up  a 
laboratory  of  his  own,  and  is  dabbling  in  acids  and 
working  over  retorts  every  spare  moment  he  can  get. 
It  is  just  as  much  his  duty  as  his  fellow-student's  to 
complete  the  chemical  course  ;  but  the  duty  is  meat 
to  him,  while  it  is  mere  drudgery  to  the  other. 

You  recognize  the  same  difference  in  the  religious 
life  of  two  men.  There  is  one  of  them  who  never 
fails  in  any  duty,  so  far  as  you  can  discover.  His 
contributions  are  regularly  given,  he  is  regularly 
present  at  the  services  of  the  church,  he  is  punctilious 
in  doing  the  work  assigned  him,  he  is  regular  in  fam- 
ily worship.  Do  not  understand  me  to  despise  all 
this.  Far  from  it.  It  is  excellent,  praiseworthy,  and 
the  man  is  worthy  of  high  respect  and  confidence. 
And  yet  you  miss  in  him  the  sense  of  exuberance. 
You  do  not  feel  that  duty  moves  under  an  over-mas- 
tering pressure.  No  enthusiasm  seems  to  get  into  his 
accurately  drawn  squares  of  moral  obligation.  He  re- 
minds you  of  a  neat,  tightly-made  cask,  which  gives 
out  its  contents  at  just  such  a  point  and  at  just  such 
a  rate  when  you  turn  the  faucet.  But  now  and  then 
you  meet  a  man  who  reminds  you  of  one  of  those 
wayside  reservoirs  which  you  come  upon  now  and 
then  on  country  roads.  You  hear  the  gurgle  of  the 
stream  as  it  comes  down  from  the  liill  above  the  road, 
mingling  with  the  voice  of  the  breezy  pines,  and  run- 
ning into  its  reservoir  with  a  current  that  keeps  the 
water  forever  trembling  and  bubbling,  and  the  old, 
mossy  trough  is  always  brimming  ;  there  are  always 
little  streams  trickling  down  the  sides  and  forming 


Meat  or  Drudgery,  3 1 1 

pools  underneath,  and  here  and  there  you  find  a  crev- 
ice where  a  jet  comes  spouting  out  under  the  strong 
pressure  which  strains  the  oaken  sides.  So  you  find 
this  man  equally  punctilious  with  the  other,  yet  more 
than  punctilious,  doing  all  that  is  required,  yet  bub- 
bling over  into  spontaneous  activity,  carrying  into 
the  forms  of  duty  something  which  fills  them  out  and 
makes  the  duties  themselves  look  richer. 

Again  I  ask,  what  makes  the  difference  ?  What 
makes  duty  meat  to  one  man,  and  drudgery  to  an- 
other ?  You  certainly  will  not  find  the  difference  in 
the  character  of  the  duties  ;  because  if  that  were  so, 
you  would  find  joyful  workers  only  in  spheres  con- 
genial to  themselves  ;  and  you  know  that  that  is  very 
far  from  being  the  case.  No  doubt  a  man  may  find 
joy  in  congenial  work,  simply  because  the  work  is 
congenial.  If  an  astronomer  is  fortunate  enough  to 
get  a  position  in  a  grand  observatory,  there  is  nothing 
strange  in  his  enjoying  his  duties.  The  gospel  does 
not  deny  that  fact,  but  neither  is  it  especially  con- 
cerned with  it.  The  problem  of  the  gospel  is  when 
the  astronomer  does  not  get  his  position  in  the  obser- 
vatory ;  when  he  cannot  give  his  life  to  the  study 
which  he  loves  ;  when  he  must  spend  his  days  in 
teaching  arithmetic  to  schoolboys  or  in  casting  up 
dreary  columns  of  figures  at  the  desk  of  a  bank.  The 
question  is,  must  all  joy  go  out  of  duty  then?  Must 
the  man's  work  cease  to  be  meat  and  become  drudg- 
ery ? 

Take  Christ's  life,  for  example.  Christ  was  pre- 
eminently a  worker.      lie    went   about   doing.      He 


312  Faith  and  Character. 

said,  *'  I  must  work  while  it  is  called  to-day."  No- 
body who  knows  anything  of  the  character  of  our 
Lord  can  for  a  moment  suppose  that  his  mission  was 
a  pleasant  one  in  itself  considered.  Confronting  ar- 
rogant priests  and  sneering  Pharisees,  pressed  by  the 
filthy  Oriental  rabble,  one  thrusting  forward  his  blind 
and  inflamed  eyes,  another  his  distorted  limbs,  the 
epileptic  falling  in  fearful  convulsions  at  his  feet,  the 
madman  menacing  him  with  frantic  gestures  and 
rending  the  air  with  his  howls  ;  mingling  with  men 
who  did  not  comprehend  his  plans  and  who  were  out 
of  sympathy  with  his  spirit,  there  was  nothing  in  all 
this  congenial  to  a  nature  so  perfectly  attuned  as 
Christ's. 

And  yet  you  can  nowhere  discover  in  the  Lord's 
life  the  faintest  sign  that  his  work  was  done  under  the 
mere  pressure  of  obligation.  Ever)'  point  at  which  it 
is  studied,  confirms  his  words  in  the  text :  ''  My  meat 
is  to  do  the  will  of  Him  that  sent  me."  He  wrought 
as  a  man  who  loved  his  work.  He  carried  into  it  all 
the  glowing  zeal  which  burned  in  the  talk  with  the 
Samaritan  by  the  well.  He  was  always  about  his 
Fathers  business  as  one  who  had  no  other  and  no 
dearer  interest. 

You  see  the  same  thing  in  Paul.  He  makes  no 
secret  of  the  fact  that  the  line  of  his  duty  is  not  a 
pleasant  one  ;  and  yet  along  this  line  runs  a  parallel 
current  of  hearty,  joyful  enthusiasm.  *'  If,"  he  writes 
to  the  Philippians,  ''  I  be  poured  as  a  libation  upon 
the  sacrifice  and  service  of  your  faith,  I  joy  and  re- 
joice with  yuu  all."     Sorrowful  he  is,  yet  always  re- 


Meat  or  Drudgery.  313 

joicing ;  poor,  yet  making  many  rich  ;  dying,  and  be- 
hold he  lives.  No  man  can  read  the  history  and 
epistles  of  Paul  without  saying,  **  Here  is  a  man  who 
loves  his  work,  who  lives  in  his  work,  to  whom  duty 
is  meat." 

It  is  now  time  to  point  out  the  secret  of  this  ;  the 
touchstone  which  converts  drudgeiy  into  meat ;  which 
makes  a  man  find  a  hearty  satisfaction  in  duty  as 
duty,  irrespective  of  its  peculiar  nature. 

As  you  read  the  text,  you  observe  that  Christ  places 
his  satisfaction  in  the  fact  of  carrying  out  a  commis- 
sion— of  doing  another's  will.  Elsewhere  he  says, 
"  I  came  not  to  do  my  own  will,  but  the  w^ill  of  Him 
that  sent  me  ;"  and  here,  "  My  meat  is  to  do  the  will 
of  Him  that  sent  me  and  to  finish  His  work."  By 
laying  the  emphasis  there,  we  strike  the  secret  of  en- 
thusiasm in  duty.  Christ's  joy  in  duty  lay  in  the  fact 
that  the  duty  was  his  Father's  work  and  his  Father's 
will.  No  matter  what  form  the  duty  might  take,  the 
fact  that  it  was  part  of  his  Father's  plan,  and  assigned 
him  by  his  Father,  was  enough  to  make  it  his  meat 
to  do  it.  This  kindled  the  flame  of  zeal.  This  made 
him  forgetful  of  hunger  and  weariness.  This  carried 
him  over  the  pain  and  repulsiveness  which  so  often 
were  bound  up  with  the  duty.  The  living  fountain 
of  his  enthusiasm  lay  not  in  the  task  itself,  but  in  his 
relation  to  God,  which  carried  all  tasks  along  with 
it.  And  that  must  be  our  starting-point  if  we  shall 
ever  know  to  the  full  the  joy  of  duty.  All  specific 
duties  must  be  swept  into  the  current  of  one,  absorb- 
ing, affectionate  desire  to  do  the  will  of  God.     Then 


3H  Faith  and  Character. 

the  joy  of  each  specific  duty  will  depend  not  upon 
its  being  an  agreeable  duty,  but  simply  and  solely 
upon  the  fact  that,  in  doing  it,  our  Father's  will  is 
done. 

Look  at  the  fifteenth  of  John,  and  you  see  how 
Christ  carries  out  this  thought  and  enforces  it  upon 
his  disciples.  In  the  first  place,  doing  is  emphasized. 
"  Ye  are  my  friends  if  ye  do  whatsoever  I  command 
you."  Then  doing  is  referred  to  its  proper  root — the 
relation  of  friendship  between  Christ  and  the  disciple. 
"  Henceforth  I  call  you  not  servants,  .  .  .  but  I  have 
called  you  friends."  According  as  the  relation  shall 
be  that  of  a  friend  or  of  a  servant,  the  doing  will  be 
either  meat  or  drudgery.  Let  me  try  to  illustrate  this. 
Let  us  suppose  a  father,  a  man  of  large  wealth,  to  have 
an  only  son  who  is  about  to  marry  and  to  establish 
a  home  of  his  own.  The  father's  hope  and  love  are 
bound  up  in  that  son.  He  proceeds  to  build  for  him 
a  beautiful  house  on  an  estate  near  his  own,  and  to 
fill  it  with  everything  that  can  gratify  the  eye  and  the 
taste,  or  minister  to  the  comfort  of  the  young  hus- 
band and  wife.  And  in  all  these  preparations  he  is 
aided  by  an  old  and  dearly  loved  friend,  the  compan- 
ion of  his  school  days,  and  the  intimate  of  his  riper 
years.  He  hides  nothing  from  this  friend.  He  takes 
him  into  all  his  counsels,  he  tells  him  all  his  plans  for 
his  son's  happiness.  And  the  friend  is  as  much  in- 
terested as  the  father  himself.  He  gives  up  his  time 
freely.  He  goes  about  with  the  father  into  all  kinds 
of  places  and  in  all  kinds  of  weather,  to  look  at  land 
or  to  consult  architects.     He  never  thinks  of  incon- 


Meat  or  Drudgery,  315 

venience  or  trouble.  Evening  after  evening  you  may 
see  the  two  gray  heads  bending  over  plans  or  title 
deeds.  The  thought  which  masters  him,  and  which 
makes  him  forgetful  of  himself  is — My  dear  friend  has 
a  purpose  in  which  his  heart  is  bound  up  ;  w^hat  can 
I  do  to  help  him  carry  it  out  ? 

Now,  on  the  other  hand,  there  are  the  architect,  and 
the  masons  and  carpenters  and  furnishers.  They  do 
not  know  the  old  father.  They  do  not  care  whether 
his  son  brings  home  his  bride  or  not ;  whether  he 
have  a  house,  or  go  to  live  in  lodgings.  They  know 
and  care  nothing  about  the  old  man's  tender  affection 
or  about  his  plans  for  his  son's  happiness.  They  are 
merely  serv^ants,  hired  for  so  much  to  do  a  certain 
work.  You  may  see  through  this  simple  illustration 
the  footing  upon  which  Christ  meant  to  put  all  his 
followers,  when  he  said,  '^  Henceforth  I  call  you  not 
sen^ants,  for  the  servant  knoweth  not  what  his  Lord 
doeth  ;  but  I  have  called  you  friends,  for  all  things 
that  I  have  heard  of  my  Father  I  have  made  known 
unto  you."  The  Christian's  relation  to  his  Lord  is  that 
of  the  Father's  friend,  in  sympathy  with  his  plans, 
possessed  of  the  secret  of  the  Lord  ;  it  is  not  that  of 
the  servant  who  knows  not  and  cares  not  what  the 
Father  is  doing,  except  as  it  puts  money  into  his 
pocket. 

I  have  drawn  out  this  contrast  at  length,  because 
in  it  lies  the  difference  between  duty  as  meat  and 
duty  as  drudgery.  The  true  basis  of  Christian  life 
and  work  is  friendship — confidential  friendship  with 
Christ.     It  is  of  these  friends  that  he  says,  'I  have 


3i6  Faith  and  Character, 

chosen  you  and  ordained  you  that  you  should  bring 
forth  fruit,  and  that  your  fruit  should  remain." 

In  such  a  friendship,  a  man  not  only  learns  some- 
thing of  Christ's  plans  and  desires  for  him  and  for  the 
world,  but  gets,  through  his  love,  into  perfect  sym- 
pathy with  them  ;  so  that  the  carrying  out  of  these 
plans  becomes  the  staple  work,  and  the  sustained  en- 
thusiasm of  his  life.  He  accepts  his  duty  and  his 
position  as  alike  parts  of  his  Father's  plan.  It  is  not 
that  the  specific  duty  is  any  pleasanter  or  any  harder  ; 
but  that  the  pleasantness  and  the  hardness  are  taken 
up  into  the  grand  motive  of  doing  God's  pleasure. 
Such  a  man  does  not  look  upon  duty  and  pleasure  as 
antagonists.  He  does  not  fence  off  duty  from  pleas- 
ure. Not  a  few  people  engage  in  duty  as  a  school- 
boy pursues  his  studies,  looking  out  longingly  through 
five  days  in  the  week  for  the  Saturday  holiday.  To 
him  everything  is  subordinate  to  the  holidays,  and 
the  intervening  duties  form  a  disagreeable  necessity, 
which  is  to  be  gotten  over  as  best  he  can,  and  under 
a  kind  of  silent  protest.  In  Christian  living,  duty 
and  pleasure  do  not  belong  apart.  Neither  thrives 
in  a  state  of  divorce.  Pleasure  degenerates  into  sin, 
and  duty  into  drudgery.  Christ  means  that  his  fol- 
lowers should  find  joy  in  duty ;  that  as  duty  must 
needs  be  the  staple  of  the  life,  the  life  should  be  joy- 
ful ;  that  his  true  followers  should  be  able  to  say  with 
himself,  ''  I  delight  to  do  Thy  will." 

Some  of  you  may  think  that  I  preach  to  you  a 
great  deal  about  duty.  I  do.  If  I  am  in  earnest  to 
have  you  friends  of  Christ,  I  cannot  preach  too  much 


Meat  or  Driidgcry.  3^7 

about  it,  for  I  read  his  own  words,  ''Ye  are  my  friends 
if  ye  do  whatsoever  I  command  you."  I  know  that 
duty  must  needs  make  up  by  far  the  larger  share  of 
your  life  and  of  mine,  and  therefore  I  would  have  it 
propelled  from  the  right  point,  and  informed  with 
the  right  principle.  And  I  am  sure  that  the  church 
at  large  has  great  need  of  the  lesson  conveyed  by 
these  words  of  the  Master.  Duty  appeals  to  too  many 
souls  as  drudgery ,  and  therefore  carries  with  it  a  temp- 
tation to  evade  it.  Too  many  people  set  before  them 
as  their  end  in  life,  the  having  a  ''  good  time,"  as  they 
express  it,  which  means  following  their  own  inclina- 
tions and  seeking  their  own  pleasure  ;  and  they  prac- 
tically regard  all  duty  as  an  interference  with  this.  I 
am  sure  that  God  means  that  His  children  should  be 
happy  ;  but  I  am  equally  sure  that  the  man  who  takes 
that  view  of  happiness  will  never  find  it.  Happiness, 
if  it  is  to  be  found  at  all  in  this  world,  will  be  found 
along  the  path  of  duty.  The  men  who  hurry  over 
the  spaces  between  their  selfish  pleasures  miss  the 
best  of  their  lives.  They  are  like  a  traveller  who  has 
come  to  see  the  beauties  of  our  country,  and  who  is 
so  anxious  to  get  to  Albany  that  he  takes  a  sleeping- 
carriage,  and  loses  all  the  beautiful  scenery  of  the  Hud- 
son. There  is  a  better  way  than  this — a  way  which  has 
the  recommendation  of  Christ's  wor(;J  and  of  Christ's 
example.  When  I  hold  up  to  you  this  text,  it  is  not 
your  sentence  to  a  round  of  drudgery.  It  is  your 
passport  over  a  road  which  Christ's  feet  have  trod- 
den, and  where  he,  at  least,  found  the  purest  blessed- 
ness and  the  most  joyful  satisfaction.     Then  again,  too 


3i8  Faith  and  Character, 

much  Christian  duty  is  done  painfully  and  wearily. 
There  is  too  much  fretting  over  it.  One  is  not  sat- 
isfied with  his  place  ;  another,  with  his  success ; 
another,  with  the  kind  of  work  he  has  to  do.  One 
thinks  he  does  not  get  his  deserts  at  men's  hands. 
Another,  that  he  has  to  bear  an  undue  share  of  bur- 
dens ;  and  so  the  way  which  God  meant  should  be 
sunny  and  full  of  songs,  is  clouded  by  these  rising 
vapors  of  discontent,  and  is  full  of  the  voices  of  mur- 
muring. Service  is  moved  too  much  by  the  attrac- 
tiveness of  the  duty,  and  not  enough  by  the  impul- 
sion of  love.  It  picks  and  chooses  duty  according  to 
rules  and  preferences  of  its  own,  instead  of  being 
swept  onward  to  all  duty  by  the  master  thought,  ''  I 
am  the  friend  of  Christ."  So  long  as  Christians  live 
only  by  a  code  of  rules,  so  long  duty  will  be  drudgery 
and  not  meat  ;  so  long  it  will  be  upon  the  basis  of  ser- 
vice rather  than  of  friendship.  It  will  take  on  a  new 
and  brighter  and  nobler  aspect,  only  when  each  life 
shall  be  thrilled  with  the  love  of  a  personal  Christ ; 
only  when  duty  ceases  to  be  a  dry,  hard  code,  and  be- 
comes identified  with  the  free-will  offering  of  a  burn- 
ing devotion  to  the  Lord  who  bought  us.  What  we 
need  in  the  church  of  Christ  is  a  sicnng  behind  duty, 
like  the  power  which  sends  the  billows  of  the  At- 
lantic steadily,  rank  after  rank,  against  the  cliffs. 

Man  and  church  ought  to  be  moving,  like  the  cru- 
saders of  old,  under  the  battle-cry,  "  God  wills  it !  " 
and  with  a  sympathy  with  God's  purpose  to  save  our 
poor  lost  race,  as  intense  as  that  which  drew  the  cru- 
sading hosts  to  the  gates  of  Jerusalem. 


Meat  or  Drudgery.  319 

And  I  repeat  it,  this  power  and  impulse  in  duty 
will  come  only  with  the  fresh  baptism  of  the  spirit  of 
love  to  Christ.  Men  must  love  Christ  before  they 
will  love  duty.  They  must  be  in  sympathy  with 
Christ  before  they  will  find  duty  to  be  meat,  instead 
of  drudgery.  Each  man  must  see  himself  as  commis- 
sioned to  do  the  will  of  Him  that  sent  him,  before  his 
discontent  with  his  place  or  his  work  will  be  swal- 
lowed up  in  his  desire  to  do  that  will. 

And  he  who  moves  out  from  this  standpoint  will 
find  that  the  new  impulse  not  only  propels,  but  lifts 
him.  It  will  take  him  out  of  the  sphere  of  little, 
nicely-adjusted  measurements  of  duty,  and  set  him 
moving  in  the  larger  order  of  a  free  man  in  Christ 
Jesus.  It  will  put  all  the  apparent  pettiness  and  frag- 
mentariness  of  his  life  in  direct  relation  with  Christ 
and  with  God's  great  saving  plans  ;  and  thus  there 
will  be  a  sense  of  power  behind  his  smallest  service 
which  will  double  its  effect.  Often,  as  I  have  been 
drifting  in  my  boat  through  the  summer  days  along 
the  ocean  coast,  I  have  been  struck  with  the  way  in 
which  the  fulness  and  power  of  the  ocean  impressed 
itself  upon  every  single  foot  of  the  water.  Go  close  up 
to  the  rocks,  select  a  little  cove,  hardly  large  enough 
for  a  sea-bird  to  float  in,  and  shut  off  the  surrounding 
water  from  your  eyes.  You  never  could  mistake  the 
ebb  and  flow  in  that  little  cove  for  anything  but  an 
ocean  tide.  There  is  something  in  the  tremendous 
suction  which  draws  the  water  back,  something  in  the 
slow,  majestic  fulness  with  which  it  rises,  that  can 
only  come  from  the  swing  of  the  sea.    You  would  per- 


320  Faith  and  Character, 

ceive  the  difference  in  a  moment,  if  you  were  taken 
to  the  largest  and  deepest  reserv^oir.  And  so,  when 
Christian  life  throughout  the  church  shall  have  got- 
ten behind  it  the  infinite  sweep  of  the  love  of  Christ, 
the  power  will  be  felt  in  the  smallest  Christian  ser- 
vice. The  great  tide  will  move  in  every  little  creek 
and  bay  and  cleft  of  duty,  and  the  world  shall  hear 
its  voice  as  the  sound  of  many  waters. 

This,  then,  is  the  sum  of  what  I  have  said.  Our 
Christian  lives  are  lives  of  service.  Shall  the  service 
be  to  us  meat  or  drudgery  ?  The  choice  lies  with  us. 
Christ  has  the  secret  of  joyful,  enthusiastic  service, 
but  if  he  can  truly  say  to  us  :  **  I  have  meat  to  eat 
which  ye  know  not  of,"  he  is  nevertheless  not  dis- 
posed to  keep  the  secret  to  himself.  He  gives  it  to 
you  in  a  word.  Fall  into  your  place  as  his  friend 
and  not  as  his  servant.  Get  your  impulse  from  love, 
and  not  from  obligation.  Identify  your  will  with  his, 
your  work  with  his  work,  your  interest  with  that  of 
his  kingdom,  and  then,  and  not  till  then  you  can 
truly  say  with  him  :  ''My  meat  is  to  do  the  will  of 
Him  that  sent  me,  and  to  finish  His  work." 


THE  LESSON  OF  MOSES'  ROD. 


EXODUS   IV. 

(2)  And  the  Lord  said  unto   him  :  What  is   that   in  thine 
hand  ?   and  he  said,  A  rod. 


XVIII. 
THE   LESSON   OF   MOSES'   ROD. 

In  our  study  of  the  men  of  Scripture,  we  are  con- 
stantly impressed  with  the  fact  that  they  are  men  of 
like  passions  with  ourselves.  Even  the  heroic  men 
are  only  men  after  all,  subject  to  the  same  tempta- 
tions, weakness,  and  error  which  beset  us.  Moses,  for 
example,  is  one  of  the  grandest  of  the  men  of  old,  yet 
we  cannot  help  seeing  his  infirmity  of  temper  ;  the  hot 
and  hasty  spirit  which  ran  before  it  was  sent,  which 
imperilled  the  cause  of  the  people  by  the  slaying  of 
the  Egyptian,  and  which  proved  that  he  needed  the 
long  solitude  of  Horeb  to  mellow  him,  and  to  fit  him 
for  that  leadership  for  which  no  man  can  ever  be  re- 
garded as  wholly  fit  who  cannot  rule  himself.  Then, 
too,  for  one  who  had  had  such  close  intercourse  with 
God,  it  seems  strange  that  he  should  exhibit  such 
weakness  of  faith  and  such  reluctance  to  obey.  One 
would  think  that  a  man  would  not  dare  to  hesitate, 
much  less  to  remonstrate,  when  a  voice  spoke  to  him 
out  of  the  midst  of  that  visible  miracle — the  bush  burn- 
ing, but  not  consumed.  Yet  we  hear  him  saying,  first, 
''Who  am  I  ?"  As  if  that  were  any  business  of  his. 
Then,  *'they  will  not  hearken  to  my  voice."  Sup- 
pose they  would  not.     What  was  that  to  him  ?     God 


324  Faith  and  Character. 

Himself  has  spoken  to  men  ere  now,  and  they  have 
refused  to  listen.  Suppose  God's  purpose,  so  far  as 
Moses  was  concerned,  was  to  be  fulfilled  simply  in 
Moses'  speaking.  What  was  there  for  him  to  do  but 
to  speak  ?  His  obedience  was  not  to  be  conditioned 
upon  the  peoples'  hearing  or  refusing  to  hear.  And 
then,  after  God  had  wrought  a  miracle  to  encourage 
his  faith,  he  must  needs  raise  the  question  of  his  elo- 
quence. Did  he  suppose  for  a  moment  that  God  did 
not  know  his  lack  of  eloquence  as  well  as  he  did  ? 
Did  he  suppose  that  an  eloquent  man  was  necessary 
to  carry  out  God's  will  ?  How  did  he  know  but  that 
the  fact  that  he  was  not  eloquent  was  the  very  rea- 
son why  God  w^anted  him  for  that  position  ?  It  is 
not  hard  to  see  why  God's  anger  was  kindled  against 
Moses,  not  merely  because  of  these  individual  errors, 
but  because  of  the  root  out  of  which  they  sprang, 
and  which  underlies  all  the  similar  and  so  frequent 
errors  on  our  part,  namely :  that  ignorance  of  God 
and  consequent  w^ant  of  faith  in  Him  which  lead  us 
to  fix  the  measure  of  power  and  the  character  of  the 
agents  necessary  to  do  what  God  commands  to  be 
done  ;  the  measuring  of  divine  possibilities  by  human 
standards. 

Here  was  Moses,  for  instance,  summoned  by  God 
to  undertake  the  work  of  opening  His  great  design  of 
deliverance  to  Israel,  and  to  be  the  main  agent  in 
carrying  it  out.  The  thing  lay  in  Moses'  mind  thus  : 
''  This  is  a  stupendous  undertaking.  The  leader  of 
this  people  must  be  a  wise  and  a  ready  man.  He  who 
would  persuade  this  people  must  be  a  fluent  speaker." 


The  Lesson  of  Moses'  Rod.  325 

The  thing  lay  in  God's  mind  (reverently  speaking) 
thus:  '*I  desire  Moses  to  undertake  this  work.  I 
know  his  strength  and  his  weakness,  but  his  strength 
or  his  weakness  are  nothing  to  Me.  I  am  behind 
him,  and  this  work  is  to  be  My  doing,  not  his  ;  and 
whatever  he  may  need  to  do  My  will,  I  can  give  him." 
As  for  Moses'  eloquence,  it  afterward  appeared  that 
God  did  not  need  Moses'  tongue  at  all.  He  had 
Aaron  whom  he  could  and  did  employ  for  the  pur- 
pose ;  and  if  He  had  not  had  Aaron,  nor  a  single 
speaker  in  the  whole  nation  of  Israel,  He  could  have 
done  His  own  speaking  in  His  own  unmistakable 
way. 

This  obedience,  irrespective  of  our  own  estimates 
of  power  or  weakness,  success  or  failure,  is  the  uni- 
versal rule  laid  down  for  God's  workmen.  The  fact 
once  established  that  God  commands  a  thing  to  be 
done,  and  commands  you  or  me  to  do  it, — our  estimate 
of  personal  qualifications,  of  the  probability  or  possi- 
bility of  success  or  failure,  of  the  measure  or  mode  of 
power  necessary  to  accomplish  the  work,  are  to  be 
absolutely  laid  aside.  The  fact  that  a  man  is  without 
the  qualifications  which  appear  needful  to  him,  may 
be  the  very  reason  why  God  chooses  him.  Men 
somehow  fall  into  the  feeling  that  God  is  arranging 
matters  for  their  glory  ;  whereas  He  is  arranging,  in 
every  case,  for  His  own  glory.  God  does  not  care 
whether  you  and  I  are  great  men,  or  not.  He  does 
care  that  our  life  and  work  shall  set  Him  forth  to  men 
as  a  great  God  ;  and  if  they  can  be  made  to  see  this 
any  better  by  His  using  a  feeble  and  contemptible 


326  Faith  and  Character. 

man,  Instead  of  one  to  whose  genius  and  power 
society  looks  for  great  things,  we  need  not  be  sur- 
prised at  His  choosing  such  a  man  ;  and  the  man  him- 
self has  nothing  to  say  about  the  matter,  but  is  sim- 
ply to  suffer  himself  to  be  used,  and  to  leave  all  the 
rest  to  God. 

If,  then,  wx  once  get  firmly  hold  of  this  truth, 
we  shall  understand  w^hy  God  often  turns  our 
thoughts  away  from  the  great  plans  and  the  elabo- 
rate machinery  which  we  had  determined  to  be  neces- 
sary, and  bids  us  use  some  familiar  thing,  or  work  in 
some  well-worn,  commonplace  track  which  had  sunk 
entirely  out  of  our  sight  in  the  shadow  of  the  great 
thing  to  be  done.  While  Moses  was  thinking  and 
talking  about  eloquent  speech,  God  said  to  him, 
^' What  is  that  in  thy  hand  ?"  Only  a  rod,  his  shep- 
herd's crook,  a  stick  cut  from  a  common  bush,  a 
thing  to  which  his  hand  had  become  so  used  that  he 
carried  it  unconsciously.  Only  a  rod  ;  but  why  that 
question  ?  What  can  I  do  with  the  rod  ?  Nothing, 
perhaps.  The  question  is  not  at  all  w^hat  you  can 
do  with  it.  In  your  hand  it  would  be  nothing  ;  but 
now  cast  it  out  of  your  hand.  Throw  it  upon  the 
ground,  and  see  what  it  w^ill  do  in  My  hand.  And  lo, 
that  thing  so  familiar  to  Moses,  that  thing  which 
he  never  would  have  dreamed  could  have  any  con- 
nection with  the  work  to  which  he  had  been  called, 
that  rod  became  a  lithe  serpent ;  and  Moses  fled  from 
it  in  terror.  God's  touch  could  make  a  fearful  and 
wonderful  thing  out  of  a  contemptible  stick.  And 
when  God  put  it  back  into  Moses'  hand,  Moses  had 


The  Lesson  of  Moses'  Rod.  327 

gained  a  new  respect  for  that  common  thing  ;  and 
he  took  with  it  the  assurance  conveyed  by  the  mira- 
cle that  he  w^as  no  more  to  wield  that  staff  as  Moses 
the  shepherd,  but  as  Moses  the  agent  and  represen- 
tative of  God. 

This,  then,  is  the  truth  which  every  Christian  worker 
needs  to  get  by  heart :  that  human  power  and  human 
agencies,  w^hen  God  uses  them,  cease  to  be  limited  in 
their  operation  by  human  measurements.  They  are 
lifted  up  into  another  plane,  and  work  under  the  lar- 
ger laws  of  God's  omnipotence.       / 

And  this  fact,  if  we  only  knew  it,  is  a  very  familiar 
one  to  us,  I  mean  on  its  lower  side.  That  is  to  say, 
we  all  know  how  often  a  thing  or  a  person  develops  a 
new  and  higher  value,  and  a  larger  range  of  resources 
simply  by  passing  into  a  skilful  hand,  and  by  receiv- 
ing the  impress  of  another  mind  and  will. 

There  is  a  lump  of  clay,  for  instance.  It  cannot 
rustle  and  wave  and  shade  like  a  tree  ;  it  cannot  emit 
perfume  like  a  flower  ;  it  cannot  afford  refreshment 
like  a  fruit.  All  it  can  do  is  to  lie  still  and  be  clay, 
until  it  passes  into  the  hand  of  some  one.  The  potter 
finds  it,  and  throws  it  upon  his  wheel,  and  shapes  it, 
and  puts  it  into  the  fire  ;  and  it  comes  forth  to  be  an 
ornament  in  a  king's  house,  or  a  daily  blessing  beside 
the  poor  man's  well. 

Or,  to  go  a  little  higher,  into  the  sphere  of  human 
life,  there  is  an  ignorant  clown.  Leave  him  in  his 
own  hands,  and  the  best  he  can  do  will  be  to  turn 
over  the  glebe,  and  to  eat  and  sleep  like  the  ox  he 
drives.     Yet  put  him  into  another's  hands.     Let  the 


328  Faith  and  Character. 

drill-sergeant  take  him  in  hand  ;  let  him  move  in 
the  ranks  under  the  word  of  a  wise  general,  and  he 
may  help  decide  the  destinies  of  a  state. 

The  principle,  in  short,  lies  at  the  bottom  of  all 
education.  Teachers  and  schools,  and  text-books, 
and  the  whole  machinery  of  education,  assume  that 
man  cannot  be  all  that  he  is  capable  of  being,  so  long 
as  he  remains  in  his  own  hands  ;  that  he  must  be 
taken  in  hand  by  higher  culture,  and  superior  knowl- 
edge and  experience,  and  get  their  stamp  upon  him 
before  he  can  become  a  power  in  society. 

What  then  ?  Shall  we  say  that  it  is  strange  or  un- 
natural, when  common  things  and  common  men  de- 
velop such  power  under  the  touch  of  a  competent 
hand,  that  the  same  things  and  men,  passing  into 
God's  hand,  should  reveal  powers  and  be  turned  to 
uses  which  astonish  the  world  ? 

Yet  this  is  the  lesson  of  which  Scripture  is  full ;  upon 
which  Scripture  history  is  one  continuous  comment. 
It  is  **not  by  might  nor  by  power,  but  by  My  spirit," 
saith  the  Lord.  Out  of  weakness  men  are  made 
strong.  One  chases  a  thousand,  and  two  put  ten 
thousand  to  flight  ;  the  shepherd's  crook  becomes  a 
rod  of  power ;  a  great  tree  arises  from  a  grain  of 
seed;  mountains  are  moved  by  faith;  ''the  things 
which  are,"  are  brought  to  naught  by  ''things  which 
are  not." 

This  general  principle  being  established,  it  follows 
that  the  first  condition  of  its  operation  in  the  individ- 
ual man  is  self -surrender^  or  putting  himself  out  of  his 
own  hands,  and  putting  himself  absolutely,  and  with- 


The  Lesson  of  Moses'  Rod.  329 

out  any  reserve,  into  God's  hands.  Doing  this,  he 
has  the  assurance  that  his  power  will  be  made  the 
very  most  of,  while  he  renounces  all  right  to  say  what 
power  of  his  shall  be  used,  or  how  it  shall  be  used,  or 
for  what  end  it  shall  be  used.  God  may  turn  aside 
from  the  power  on  which  he  prides  himself  most,  and 
use  some  little  capability  to  which  he  attaches  no  im- 
portance. God  may  set  him  at  great  work,  which  he 
thinks  he  is  not  fit  for.  God  may  give  him  small  and 
obscure  work,  when  he  thinks  he  is  competent  to 
great  things.  God  may  do  by  incidental  work  of  his, 
more  than  he  could  by  all  his  carefully-laid  plans. 
God  may  use  only  a  stick,  where  he  thought  the  work 
required  eloquence. 

All  that  he  leaves  with  God.  His  office  is  simply 
to  obey  ;  working  when  and  where  God  bids  him, 
and  using  the  tools  God  tells  him  to  use,  no  matter 
how  ridiculously  inadequate  they  may  seem  to  bring 
about  the  end  proposed. 

A  man  who  thus  gives  up  his  power  into  God's 
hands,  is  like  one  who  gives  up  his  money,  which  is 
power  of  a  certain  kind,  into  the  hands  of  a  financier. 
He  does  not  know  w^hy  his  agent  buys  this  stock  or 
sells  that.  He  wonders  sometimes  why  the  agent 
suspects  an  investment  which  he  himself  thought 
good  ;  or  why  he  attaches  so  much  importance  to 
some  little  piece  of  real  estate  which  he  would  almost 
have  given  away.  All  he  knows  is  that  his  money 
increases  ;  that  his  financial  power  is  doubled  by  his 
finances  being  in  other  hands  than  his  own. 

It  is  with  some  natural  fear  and  trembling  that  one 


330  Faith  and  Character. 

tlius  lets  go  liis  hold  on  his  old  notions  of  power  and 
weakness  ;  but  when  he  does,  and  begins  to  work  on 
this  new  principle,  his  eyes  open  very  rapidly.  By 
the  time  Moses  had  brouglit  the  plagues  upon  Egypt, 
and  had  seen  the  Red  Sea  open  a  path  for  the  host, 
and  close  again  over  their  pursuers,  and  had  seen  the 
bare,  dry  rock  flow  with  water  at  the  touch  of  his 
rod,  he  must  have  gotten  a  quite  new  conception  of 
the  possibilities  of  a  shepherd's  staff  with  God's  power 
behind  it.  He  was  too  wise  to  bestow  any  supersti- 
tious reverence  upon  the  staff  itself  ;  and  yet  that 
common  stick  must  have  acquired  a  dignity  and  in- 
terest in  his  eyes  from  the  fact  of  its  having  been 
God's  instrument. 

And  one  object  of  God's  dealing  with  us  is  to  teach 
us  respect  for  familiar  modes  of  power.  That  is  one 
reason  why  He  so  often  makes  use  of  them.  We  very 
naturally  fall  into  the  mistaken  idea  that  power  which 
is  little  in  our  eyes  is  not  worth  using  at  all.  God 
corrects  our  mistake  by  using  it.  We  look  upon  this 
or  that  man,  and  say  he  is  not  worth  cultivating.  He 
has  no  remarkable  talent,  no  special  gifts,  he  is  com- 
monplace ;  and  God  every  now  and  then  takes  one  of 
those  commonplace  men,  whose  only  merit  is  faith- 
fully doing  his  duty  in  his  commonplace  ground,  and 
puts  him  where  society  is  forced  to  look  up  to  him, 
and  makes  him  the  instrument  of  work  for  which  so- 
ciety must  needs  thank  him.  s/We  look  about  us  to 
find  something  to  do  to  serve  God  and  to  enrich  the 
world.  We  are  very  ambitious  ;  we  want  to  do  some 
great  thing,  and  yet,  somehow,  the  time  for  doing  it 


The  Lesson  of  Moses'  Rod.  331 

does  not  come  ;  there  are  so  many  little  things  which 
come  in  day  by  day  and  prevent  our  getting  at  work  at 
the  great  thing.  Meanwhile  we  have  the  great  thing 
in  mind.  It  is  maturing.  We  mean  to  do  it  some  day. 
These  little  cares  and  duties  are  only  interruptions. 
Our  great  service  to  God  and  to  the  world  is  yet  to 
be  done.  And  some  day  we  wake  up  on  a  sudden  to 
the  fact  that  we  shall  never  do  that  great  thing  ;  that 
some  one  else  has  done  it ;  or  that  the  necessity  for 
doing  it  has  gone  by;  and  that  our  service  to  the 
world  and  to  God  has  been  made  up  out  of  these  lit- 
tle daily  services  which  we  thought  were  only  inci- 
dental to  the  main  current  of  our  life.  They  turn  out 
to  have  formed  the  current.  Well  for  us  if  we  have 
not  despised  them  ;  well  for  us  if  we  have  done  with 
our  might  what  our  hand  found  to  do,  and  have  not 
slighted  it  because  we  meant  to  do  something  greater 
some  day. 

Then,  too,  with  this  desire  and  planning  to  do  great 
things,  we  begin  to  think  of  correspondingly  great 
means.  We  must  be  so  well  equipped ;.  we  must 
know  so  much  ;  we  must  have  such  and  such  appa- 
ratus ;  and  meantime  we  cannot  afford  to  stop  and  do 
the  little  thing  which  needs  doing  to-day,  or  use  the 
familiar  power  which  has  become  contemptible  by  its 
familiarity.  We  are  saving  ourselves  up  for  some 
great  demonstration  when  we  shall  be  all  ready.  And 
God  comes  to  us  and  dissipates  all  our  dreams  of 
elaborate  machinery,  by  saying:  ''What  is  that  in 
thine  hand  ?  Go,  use  that  to-day."  He  is  a  wise  man 
who  does  not  rebel  at  that  bidding.     He  may  be  sure 


332  Faith  and  Character. 

that  God  will  do  more  and  better  with  that  thing 
which  is  in  his  hand  to-day,  than  he  will  do  with  his 
machiner}'  and  his  great  plans  which  are  still  dreams 
of  the  future. 

Many  a  man  has  died  a  nobody,  and  has  left  the 
world  no  better  than  he  found  it,  simply  because  he 
thought  the  mode  of  power  which  lay  nearest  him, 
and  with  which  he  was  most  familiar,  was  too  insig- 
nificant to  be  used.  While  he  was  waiting  to  nurse 
some  greater  power  and  to  develop  some  greater  re- 
sult, he  died,  and  had  done  nothing.  We  have  a  right 
to  be  suspicious  of  the  value  of  those  men  who  are 
always  telling  how  much  they  would  do  if  they  were 
only  properly  placed,  or  if  they  only  had  such  and 
such  tools.  An  artichoke  is  the  meanest  vegetable 
that  grows  ;  and  it  is  the  only  vegetable  which  insists 
on  growing  in  a  garden.  An  oak  will  grow  any- 
where ;  and  a  man's  true  power  and  piety  too  are 
shown  by  what  he  will  do  where  God  has  placed  him, 
and  with  the  thing  that  is  in  his  hand.  iP^When  Paul's 
missionary  career  was  stopped,  and  he  w^as  shut  up  in 
prison  at  Rome,  he  might  have  said  :  '*I  may  as  well 
give  up  all  thought  of  doing  anything  more."  A  good 
man  who  is  suddenly  transferred  from  a  wide  sphere 
of  activity  to  a  very  narrow  one,  is  often  tempted  in 
this  way.  But  not  so  reasoned  Paul.  "What  is  that 
in  thine  hand,  Paul?"  *'A  pnetorian  soldier  chained 
to  my  hand  ; "  and  forthwith  Paul  sets  about  preach- 
ing to  these  guards,  as  one  after  another  they  take 
their  place  at  his  side ;  and  by  and  by  we  find  him 
writing  to  the    church  at    Philippi,    *^  My  bonds   in 


The  Lesson  of  Moses'  Rod,  333 

Christ  are  known  throughout  the  praetorian  guard." 
** What  are  those  in  thine  hand?"  ''Visitors,  mem- 
bers of  the  Roman  church,  coming  in  day  after  day 
to  talk  with  me  on  the  mysteries  of  the  faith  or  the 
interests  of  the  church ; "  and  again  we  find  him  writ- 
ing, *'  Many  of  the  brethren  in  the  Lord,  waxing  con- 
fident by  my  bonds,  are  much  more  bold  to  speak 
the  word  without  fear."  Some  of  these  are  servants 
in  the  imperial  household,  and  so  the  gospel  gets  a 
foothold  in  the  palace  of  Nero.  "What  is  that  in 
thine  hand  ?"  "Only  a  pen  ;"  but  the  whole  Chris- 
tian world  rejoices  to-day  in  the  four  Epistles  of  the 
Imprisonment. 

There  is  a  banking  clerk  in  a  German  town.  God 
smites  him  with  blindness.  Cut  off  from  the  means 
of  earning  his  daily  bread,  what  business  has  that 
man  to  think  of  doing  any  philanthropic  work  ?  Ab- 
solutely nothing  in  his  hand,  only  a  thought  in  his 
heart,  that  a  blind  man  might  teach  other  blind  men, 
and  deal  with  them  the  better  from  being  a  personal 
sharer  of  their  affliction.  That  thought  grew  into 
the  blind  school  at  lUzach,  with  its  printing-office  and 
workshop,  and  library  of  books  in  raised  type,  and, 
greatest  of  all,  the  German  Bible  in  raised  letters, 
printed  in  sixty-two  volumes,  and  costing  only  forty- 
two  dollars.  One  blind  man,  thinking  his  one  thought 
in  the  dark,  opened  the  Word  of  God  to  the  blind  of 
all  Germany. 

What  is  that  in  thine  hand  ?  The  Reverend  Mr. 
McCall,  that  devoted  worker  among  the  poor  of  Glas- 
gow, and  the  author  of  that  most  interesting  little 


334  Faith  and  Character, 

book,  *' Among  the  Masses  ;  or,  Work  in  theWynds," 
relates,  that  one  evening  a  few  young  women  came 
to  him,  saying  :  "We  have  been  thinking  about  what 
you  were  saying  on  being  doers  as  well  as  hearers  of 
the  word.  We  have  been  praying  that  the  Lord  of 
the  harvest  may  send  laborers  to  the  multitude  ;  mean- 
time, we  have  come  to  offer  ourselves.  We  think  we 
might  go  round  to  some  of  the  houses  with  tracts  ; 
and  here  we  have  six  shillings  to  pay  for  them.  We 
hope  to  give  that,  at  least,  every  month."  They  were 
hard  working  girls,  chiefly  engaged  in  factories  or 
warerooms  ;  but  in  a  few  weeks  thirty  of  them  were 
thus  engaged.  Sabbath  after  Sabbath  they  might  be 
seen  entering  the  church  with  new  followers  gathered 
from  the  lanes  and  tenements  ;  and  when  the  work  of 
Bible-selling  among  the  people  of  the  district  was  in- 
augurated, in  one  year  these  girls  sold  no  fewer  than 
seven  hundred  copies  of  the  Word  of  God.  Only  six 
shillings  in  hand,  and  a  little  time  taken  from  hard- 
earned  leisure,  for  Christ's  sake. 

Thus  God  points  us  to  the  thing  in  our  hand  ;  the 
duty  nearest  us  ;  the  power  of  which  we  are  masters  ; 
the  opportunity  of  the  present  moment ;  and  bids  us 
make  the  best  and  the  most  of  these.  It  was  indeed  in 
a  spirit  of  despondency  and  desperation  that  the  wise 
man  wrote,  **  Whatsoever  thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do 
it  with  thy  might  ;  "  as  much  as  to  say,  "Whatever 
you  can  get,  get  ;  w^hatever  you  can  do,  do.  You  are 
on  your  road  to  the  dark,  dismal  grave  where  there  is 
no  work  nor  device  ;  there  is  the  more  reason,  there- 
fore, why  your  journey  should  be  a  merry  one  ; "  but 


The  Lesson  of  Moses   Rod.  335 

the  admiration  is  none  the  less  sound,  viewed  in  the 
cheerful  light  of  Christian  hope.  It  is  true  that  life 
is  short;  that  only  to-day  is  ours;  that  there  is  no 
work  nor  device  nor  knowledge  in  the  grave  ;  and 
that  the  man  who  wants  to  do  anything  in  this  world 
had  better  do  the  thing  that  comes  to  his  hand  with 
the  tool  that  is  in  his  hand.  It  is  right  to  make  plans. 
It  is  right  and  laudable  to  make  the  whole  life  centre 
in  a  great  and  good  design.  Sometimes  God  lets  a 
man  carry  out  such  a  plan  ;  at  any  rate,  whether  He 
does  or  not,  the  life  is  the  better  for  the  order  and 
concentration  which  are  thus  impressed  on  it  ;  but  it 
must  never  be  forgotten  that  along  the  line  of  our 
great  plans  lie  many  incidental  things,  or  what  seem 
such  to  us  ;  and  that,  when  God  throws  these  in  our 
way.  He  means  them  to  be  done.  We  may  think 
them  interruptions  now,  but  they  may  prove  to  have 
furthered  our  plan.  Or,  it  may  be  that  God  shall 
take  one  of  these  apparently  incidental  things,  and 
make  our  life  centre  in  that,  instead  of  at  the  point 
we  had  fixed  for  ourselves.  We  may  legitimately 
strive  to  acquire  new  power,  but  meanwhile  we  must 
not  neglect  that  which  is  in  our  hand.  The  use  for 
the  new  power  may  never  come.  The  use  for  the 
power  in  hand  may  be  to-day  ;  and  that  opportunity 
says  to  us,  "Whatsoever  thy  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it 
with  thy  might."  Thy  hand :  a  man,  while  his  mind 
is  preoccupied  with  something  far  removed  from  the 
place  where  he  is  walking  up  and  down,  might  strike 
his  hand  against  a  little  tree,  and,  looking  down,  find 
it  something  which  promised  rich  and  rare  fruit  on 


336  Faith  and  Character. 

cultivation  ;  and  thus  taking  what  his  hand  found, 
but  which  did  not  lie  at  all  in  his  plans,  and  setting 
out  his  little  tree  in  his  garden,  he  will  be  eating  the 
fruit,  perhaps,  when  the  plan  on  which  he  was  medita- 
ting has  been  blown  to  the  four  winds.  So  in  Chris- 
tian work.  God  not  unfrequently  honors  the  finding 
of  the  hand  above  the  carefully  planned  product  of 
the  brain,  in  order  that  we  may  be  taught  how  great 
the  small  and  incidental  and  commonplace  things  of 
the  world  may  become  by  His  touch  upon  them. 

How  full  is  Scripture  of  such  illustrations.  There 
is  the  host  of  the  Midianites  and  of  Amalek  in  the 
valley  like  grasshoppers  for  multitudes,  and  here  is 
Gideon,  with  only  three  hundred  left  of  all  his  thou- 
sands. Twenty-two  thousand  fearful  men,  and  nine 
thousand  seven  hundred  rash  men  gone  at  a  stroke. 
Three  hundred  ;  and  **  what  is  that  in  their  hand, 
Gideon  ?"  ^'Only  an  earthen  pitcher,  a  lamp  and  a 
trumpet."  ''Well,  Gideon,  cease  making  elaborate 
plans  for  battle  or  for  escape.  By  these  shall  that 
vast  host  be  scattered.  You  never  dreamed  of  lamps, 
pitchers,  and  trumpets  deciding  a  campaign,  but  you 
shall  see  what  God  can  do  with  light  and  breath  and 
broken  earthenware." 

In  the  days  of  Jael,  the  highways  were  unoccupied, 
and  travellers  walked  through  byways  for  fear  of  vio- 
lence and  robbery.  How  shall  they  be  delivered  ? 
"What  is  that  in  thine  hand,  Shamgar  ?  "  ''  Only  an 
ox-goad  ;  good  for  nothing  but  to  drive  my  oxen." 
''  Perhaps  so,  Shamgar,  in  yotir  hand,  but  /  touch  it 
now.     Go  forth  and  use  it  with  God's  touch  on  it  ;  " 


The  Lesson  of  Moses    Rod.  337 

and  lo  !  six  hundred  men  fall  before  him,  and  Israel 
is  delivered  with  an  ox-goad. 

And  there  are  the  hungry  multitudes  on  the  hillside, 
and  the  disciples  of  our  Lord  in  great  worry  and  con- 
fusion :  *' How  shall  these  people  be  fed?"  And 
Christ  answers  :  **  How  many  loaves  have  ye'i  What 
is  that  in  thine  hand,  little  lad  ?"  "Only  five  loaves 
and  two  fishes,  but  they  are  nothing."  No,  not  in  the 
lad's  hands,  not  in  the  disciples'  hands,  but  when 
Christ  says,  ''bring  them  to  me,"  the  problem  is 
solved.  No  need  of  saying  "only  five  loaves,"  after 
Christ's  hand  has  been  upon  them.  There  is  enough 
and  to  spare. 

So,  then,  a  shepherd's  rod  gives  us  our  lesson  to- 
day. It  is  simple  and  direct  to  every  man,  woman, 
and  child  who  loves  and  is  trying  to  serve  our  Lord. 
The  first  question  as  you  enter  upon  service  is,  not 
what  power  do  you  desire  ?  What  are  you  striving 
after,  but  what  have  you  ?  What  can  you  do  7iow — 
to-day  ?  Whatever  that  is,  Christ  says  to  you  :  "  Use 
it;  do  it."  You  remember  the  words  of  the  Spirit  to 
that  feeble  Philadelphian  church.  He  does  not  say 
to  her,  "  Bestir  yourself  to  do  what  the  stronger 
churches  of  Sardis  or  of  Thyatira  have  done,"  but 
"  thou  hast  a  little  strength  ;  I  have  set  before  thee  an 
open  door :  hold  fast  that  thou  hast.  Thou  hast  an 
opportunity,  a  door  open  before  thee.  Enter  thy 
door.  Thou  hast  a  little  strength  ;  do  not  waste  it, 
hold  it  fast."  And  what  the  spirit  there  says  to  the 
church.  He  says  to  you  and  to  me  as  individuals. 
*'  An  open  door  is  before  thee.  Power  of  some  kind 
*5 


338  Faith  and  Character. 

is  in  thy  hand.  Enter  thy  door.  Go  straight  up  be- 
fore thee.  What  is  that  in  thine  hand  ?  Use  it,  and 
use  it  now." 

You  have  different  gifts,  but  you  each  have  some 
gift.  The  first  requisite  for  efficient  sen-ice  is  the 
consecration  of  your  power.  Of  itself  it  is  very  lit- 
tle ;  but  when  Christ  shall  lay  his  hand  on  it,  then 
neither  you  nor  I  can  measure  it.  All  that  Paul 
could  say  about  his  own  great  gifts  was  that  when 
Christ  strengthened  him,  only  then,  he  could  do  all 
things.  So,  with  your  power  consecrated  thus,  begin 
to  do  the  thing  which  God  puts  in  your  way  ;  the 
little  trivial  duty  as  it  may  seem  to  you  which  lies 
nearest  you.  Begin  to  exercise  your  talent ;  it  may 
be  money  ;  it  may  be  speech  ;  it  may  be  song ;  it 
may  be  only  the  ability  to  give  a  book  or  a  tract ;  it 
may  be  a  loaf  to  a  poor  man,  or  a  kind  word  to  a  sick 
woman.  It  may  be  only  lying  still  and  waiting  pa- 
tiently in  pain  and  helplessness.  Whatever  it  is,  do 
it ;  always  keeping  in  mind  that  the  doing  is  unto 
Christ  and  gets  all  its  significance  and  all  its  effect 
from  him.  You  may  see  wonders  wrought  with  your 
simple  rod.  Whether  you  do  or  not,  you  shall  hear 
some  day  a  word  from  those  divine  lips  which  shall 
open  to  you  as  in  a  flash  the  value  which  God  sets 
on  consecrated  power  :  "Well  done,  thou  good  and 
faithful  servant  ....  enter  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy 
Lord." 


THE   MULTIPLIED  OIL. 


2   KINGS   IV. 

(i)  Now  there  cried  a  certain  woman  of  the  wives  of  the  sons 
of  the  prophets  unto  Elisha,  saying,  Thy  servant  my  hus- 
band is  dead  ;  and  thou  knowest  that  thy  servant  did 
fear  the  Lord  :  and  the  creditor  is  come  to  take  unto 
him  my  two  sons  to  be  bondmen. 

(2)  And  EHsha  said  unto  her,  What  shall  I  do  for  thee  ?  tell 

me,  what  hast  thou  in  the  house  ?  And  she  said,  Thine 
handmaid  hath  not  any  thing  in  the  house,  save  a  pot  of 
oil. 

(3)  Then  he  said,  Go,  borrow  thee  vessels  abroad  of  all  thy 
neighbors,  even  empty  vessels  ;  borrow  not  a  few. 

(4)  And  when  thou  art  come  in,  thou  shalt  shut  the  door 

upon  thee  and  upon  thy  sons,  and  shalt  pour  out  into  all 
those  vessels,  and  thou  shalt  set  aside  that  which  is  full. 

(5)  So  she  went  from  him,  and  shut  the  door  upon  her  and 

upon  her  sons,  who  brought  the  vessels  to  her  ;  and  she 
poured  out. 

(6)  And  it  came  to  pass,  when  the  vessels  were  full,  that  she 

said  unto  her  son,  Bring  me  yet  a  vessel.  And  he  said 
unto  her.  There  is  not  a  vessel  more.    And  the  oil  stayed. 

(7)  Then  she  came  and  told  the  man  of  God.     And  he  said, 

Go,  sell  the  oil,  and  pay  thy  debt,  and  live  thou  and  thy 
children  of  the  rest. 


XIX. 

THE   MULTIPLIED   OIL. 

The  poet  Wordsworth  says  of  one  of  his  charac- 
ters, 

**  A  primrose  by  the  river's  brim 
A  yellow  primrose  was  to  him, 
And  it  was  nothing  more," 

The  flower  suggested  nothing  beyond  itself.  This 
is  a  condition  of  mind  for  which  men  are  wont  to 
receive  praise  from  some  quarters,  as  matter-of-fact 
men.  That  it  is  not  a  desirable  nor  a  healthy  state  of 
mind,  is  evident  from  the  fact  that  the  Bible  is  con- 
stantly at  work  to  lift  men  out  of  it.  The  Bible  never 
touches  a  fact  of  nature  or  of  our  common  life,  that 
it  does  not  exhibit  its  connection  with  something  out- 
side itself,  and  that  a  spiritual  truth,  pointing  upward 
to  God.  God  all  and  in  all  is  the  great  underlying 
truth  of  Scripture,  and  therefore  it  never  shrinks 
from  associating  the  meanest,  commonest,  and  most 
familiar  things  with  God  ;  nay,  it  rather  emphasizes 
His  relation  to  these,  for  the  reason  that  man  would 
naturally  overlook  it,  and  associate  Him  only  with 
what  seemed  to  himself  grand  and  worthy.  But  if 
you  will  think  of  it  for  a  moment,  some  of  the  most 


342  Faith  and  Character, 

insignificant  and  commonplace  things  are  permanent- 
ly identified,  through  the  agency  of  the  Bible,  with 
the  grandest  and  sweetest  divine  truths.  You  cannot 
look  at  a  loaf  of  bread,  and  think  only  of  flour  and 
leaven  and  your  daily  hunger.  The  thoughts  of 
Christ's  life,  death,  and  resurrection,  are,  as  it  were, 
kneaded  into  the  loaf.  A  single  hair,  a  twittering 
sparrow,  a  common  field  flower,  carry  the  sublime  les- 
son of  providence.  A  sheep  is  a  reminder  of  divine 
compassion.  Or  take  this  article  oil ;  so  common  in 
our  domestic  life,  still  more  so  in  that  of  the  East ; 
what  may  not  a  single  flask  of  oil  suggest  of  the 
early  worship  of  Jehovah  ;  of  the  imposing  rites  of 
the  sanctuary ;  of  anointed  kings  and  priests ;  of 
plenty  and  gladness  ?  What  holy  and  tender  associa- 
tions linger  about  the  Mount  of  Olives.  And  here, 
God  has  taken  one  little  flask  of  oil  in  the  home  of  an 
obscure  woman  in  a  far-off  time,  and  has  put  it  in  a 
setting  of  miracle,  and  hands  it  to  us,  bidding  us  pour 
out  and  see  how  richly  He  can  make  it  flow  with  les- 
sons of  grace  for  the  instruction  of  His  church. 

The  woman  in  the  narrative  was  a  prophet's  widow. 
Her  husband  had  been  a  faithful  servant  of  God,  leav- 
ing behind  him  a  reputation  founded  on  the  only 
basis  which  will  stand  ;  and  which  enabled  his 
widow  to  appeal  confidently  to  the  Lord's  prophet, 
saying,  '*Thou  knowest  that  thy  servant  did  fear  the 
Lord."  Like  not  a  few  of  the  Lord's  true  prophets, 
even  in  modern  times,  he  had  died  in  debt,  having 
perhaps  suffered  from  Jezebel's  vindictive  persecu- 
tion of  his  order  ;  and  now  the  creditors  were  press- 


The  Multiplied  Oil.  343 

ing  the  widow  for  payment,  and,  in  the  absence  of 
all  effects,  were  preparing  to  enforce  that  provision 
of  the  Levitical  law,  which  allowed  a  creditor  to  hold 
a  debtor's  children  to  ser^dtude  until  the  arrival  of  the 
year  of  Jubilee. 

Her  first  thought  in  her  trouble  was  of  God  as  rep- 
resented by  His  prophet.  It  could  not  have  been  a 
new  thing  for  her  to  call  upon  God  in  the  day  of 
trouble.  The  history  of  the  prophetic  order  in  that 
period  makes  it  quite  certain  that  she  had  known 
affliction  before  this  ;  and  the  pressure  of  care,  and 
the  teaching  and  example  of  that  God-fearing  hus- 
band, with  what  other  influences  we  know  not,  per- 
haps similar  ones  in  her  childhood's  history,  had 
taught  her  the  lesson  of  casting  her  burden  on  the 
Lord. 

Elisha  was  not,  in  his  own  nature,  one  to  resist 
such  an  appeal,  and  besides,  as  a  prophet  of  God, 
none  knew  better  than  he  the  peculiar  interest  and 
sanctity  with  which  the  divine  law  invested  the  widow 
and  the  orphan.  He  was  prompt  in  his  response  ; 
not  merely  as  a  man  who  is  liberal  in  good  words,  but 
as  one  who  rouses  his  energies  to  do  what  he  can. 
*'What  shall  I  do  for  thee?"  But  his  next  words 
must  have  seemed  strange  to  her:  '^What  hast  thou 
in  the  house  ? "  She  had  told  him  she  was  destitute. 
She  had  come  to  him  for  aid,  and  yet  he  turned 
back  to  her  own  house,  and  asked  what  there  was 
there. 

The  opening  of  that  house-door  is  the  opening  of 
a  familiar  truth  of  God's  administration  ;  namely,  that 


344  Faith  And  Character. 

God,  in  working  for  men,  uses  them  and  their  posses- 
sions as  far  as  they  will  go.  Often  a  man  goes  to  God 
for  help,  in  abject  need,  feeling  that  he  has  absolute- 
ly nothing  wherewith  to  help  himself,  and  is  surprised 
at  being  told  to  go  back  and  look  over  his  own  re- 
sources. It  is  just  as  when  a  boy  in  the  country-  is  at 
play  out  in  the  fields,  and  the  little  cart  to  which  he 
has  harnessed  his  dog  or  goat  breaks  down.  "  Ah  !  " 
he  says  to  his  companion,  ''it's  a  real  bad  break.  I 
can't  mend  it,  and  we  shall  have  to  walk  a  mile  and  a 
half  to  the  blacksmith's."  Just  then  the  boy's  father 
comes  by.  He  examines  the  break  and  says  :  "  Haven't 
you  something  in  your  pocket  that  you  can  mend  it 
with?"  "No,"  replies  the  lad;  "it  will  have  to  go 
to  the  blacksmith's."  "Well,  let  me  see  what  you 
have."  And  the  little  fellow  begins  to  pull  out  that 
miscellaneous  mass  which  always  gathers  in  a  school- 
boy's pocket :  a  handful  of  marbles,  a  piece  of  chalk, 
two  or  three  yards  of  string,  an  apple,  and  one  or 
two  screws.  "There,"  he  says,  "that's  all.  You 
can't  mend  it  with  any  of  those."  "Stop,"  says  the 
father  ;  "give  me  one  of  those  screws."  And  he  sits 
down  and  skilfully  joins  and  fastens  the  broken  part, 
and  sends  the  boy  off  to  his  play  happy,  and  admiring 
his  father's  skill.  Just  so  God  calls  our  attention  to 
some  little  thing  which  we  had  not  thought  worth 
mentioning  among  our  possessions,  and  says,  "use 
that."  The  widow  had  not  thought  of  paying  her 
debt  with  the  oil  which  she  had  in  the  house.  It  was 
not  a  jar  of  oil  as  we  are  accustomed  to  think,  but 
only  a   little  flask,   used   for   anointing.      Probably 


The  Multiplied  Oil.  345 

there  was  not  half  a  pint  in  all,  yet  the  prophet  seizes 
upon  this.  ''  What  hast  thou  in  the  house  ?  Only 
a  little  flask  of  oil  ?  That  is  the  very  thing.  That 
shall  pay  thy  debt,  and  save  thee  thy  children."  A 
flask  of  oil  was  not  worth  counting  in  liquidation 
of  the  widow's  debt ;  but  a  flask  of  oil  and  God  were 
good  for  any  amount.  And  one  of  our  errors  is  that, 
while  we,  perhaps,  see  the  truth  up  to  this  point,  we 
do  not  see  it  as  a  universal  truth.  We  confine  it  to 
the  occasional  miracles  of  history  ;  whereas  these 
miracles  are  only  illustrations  of  the  law  of  God's 
economy  in  all  time  ;  that  pcnver,  consecrated  to  God, 
Multiplies  according  to  God's  rule  and  not  according  to 
mans.  That  law  is  in  force  just  as  much  now  as  in 
the  days  of  Elisha  or  of  Christ.  When  there  is  some- 
thing to  be  done,  something  for  you  to  do,  God  says 
to  you,  ''What  have  you  to  do  it  with  ?"  And  you 
are  very  likely  to  say — ''  Nothing,  absolutely  nothing. 
A  very  little  money,  a  very  small  share  of  personal 
influence,  a  little  gift  of  tongue  or  of  pen,  or  possibly 
only  the  power  to  pray  ;  but  these  are  nothing.  I 
have  nothing  fit  to  do  this  work."  God  rebukes  you. 
He  tells  you  plainly  you  look  at  the  matter  in  the 
wrong  way.  He  says  to  you,  "  Do  you  call  yourself 
My  child  ;  and  do  you  think  you  are  living  under  the 
narrow,  niggardly  economy  of  men  ?  Am  I  restricted 
to  what  men  call  great  means  to  bring  to  pass  great 
results  ?  Cannot  I,  who  made  you  and  the  wojdd  out 
of  nothing,  do  this  work  with  your  little  gift,  ¥s  well 
as  with  something  greater  ?  Bring  forth  your  little 
money.     Utter  your  little  word.     Write  your  little 


346  Faith  and  Character. 

line.     Breathe  your  prayer,  and  see  what  your  Father 
in  heaven  can  do. 

If  this  faith  was  not  largely  developed  in  the  widow, 
she  had  at  least  enough  of  it  to  obey  the  prophet's  sin- 
gular order  to  go  and  borrow  vessels  from  all  her 
neighbors.  It  may  have  crossed  her  mind  that  the 
command  had  something  to  do  with  the  oil ;  but 
whether  this  were  so  or  not,  she  wasted  no  time  in 
asking  questions,  but  obeyed.  In  temporal  things 
faith  comes  after  experience.  In  spiritual  things, 
faith  comes  first,  and  experience  afterward.  What 
her  experience  was  going  to  be,  she  did  not  know ; 
what  God  might  be  going  to  do,  she  did  not  know  ; 
what  she  had  to  do  she  did  know,  and  she  simply  did 
her  work,  and  left  God  to  do  His  in  His  own  way  and 
time.  Oh,  if  we  did  but  get  hold  of  this  simple  law 
of  living,  the  law  of  the  obedience  of  faith,  how  much 
life  would  be  both  simplified  and  enriched.  From 
this  point  of  view  the  whole  matter  is  so  clear,  so  un- 
embarrassed. All  the  responsibility  for  results  is 
God's.  No  strain  comes  on  His  child.  All  the  order- 
ing of  methods  is  God's.  The  child  need  not  perplex 
himself.  All  the  power  is  God's,  the  child  needs  but 
to  draw  on  it  as  he  wants  it.  All  the  care  is  God's  ; 
the  child  is  bidden  to  cast  it  all  on  Him  ;  and  for  the 
child  there  remains  only  simple  obedience.  The 
trouble  is,  that  the  child  is  not  willing  to  humble 
himself  so  far  under  the  mighty  hand  of  God  as  to 
cast  all  care  on  Him.  Simple  obedience  is  altogether 
too  simple  for  him.  He  wants  a  hand  in  the  other 
department  of   the  partnership.     He   wants  to  trim 


The  Multiplied  Oil.  347 

his  obedience  according  to  his  notion  of  the  results  ; 
and  therefore  he  complicates  matters,  and  lives,  not 
the  sweet,  simple,  restful,  triumphant  life  of  faith,  but 
the  worried,  blundering,  defeated  life  of  the  half-sight, 
w^hich  is  all  that  his  human  ignorance  permits  him  to 
catch  of  God's  plans  and  methods. 

The  thing  which  this  widow  w^as  bidden  to  do  was 
peculiarly  significant.  She  was  about  to  receive  a 
great  blessing  from  God,  and  she  had  not  room 
enough  to  receive  it.  Probably  she  had  a  number  of 
empty  vessels  in  the  house  ;  but  the  destined  blessing 
was  to  be  far  greater  than  the  emptiness  of  her  house  ; 
and  she  must  provide  accordingly.  Is  not  this  some- 
thing more  than  a  mere  side  incident  of  the  story  ?  Is 
there  not  here  the  hint  of  a  truth  which  will  repay  a 
little  study  ?  Do  Ave  ever  think  that  sometimes  God 
cannot  bless  us  as  richly  as  He  would  because  we  are 
not  prepared  to  receive  a  large  blessing  ?  It  is  true  ; 
and  it  is  farther  true  that,  in  accordance  with  the 
same  law  which  we  have  already  considered,  God 
throws  a  part  of  this  work  of  preparation  on  us.  If 
you  will  look  at  the  chapter  just  before  this,  you  will 
find  an  illustration  of  the  truth.  When  the  three 
kings  of  Judah,  Israel,  and  Edom  were  marching 
against  the  Moabites  through  the  wilderness  of  Edom, 
and  the  water  failed,  and  the  host  called  upon  God, 
God  promised  to  send  water  for  both  man  and  beast, 
and  to  give  victory  besides.  *'  Ye  shall  not  see  wind, 
neither  shall  ye  see  rain  ;  yet  that  valley  shall  be 
filled  with  water.  .  .  .  And  this  is  but  a  light  thing  in 
the  sight  of  the  Lord  :   He  will  deliver  the  Moabites 


34-8  Faith  and  Character, 

also  into  your  hand."  But  the  host  must  make  prep- 
aration. They  must  fill  the  valley  with  ditches.  And 
the  ditches  were  dug  ;  and  while  the  host  were  sleep- 
ing, afar  off  on  the  mountains  of  Edom,  where  the 
sound  of  wind  and  rain  could  not  reach  their  ears, 
the  rain  fell,  and  the  mountain  channels  were  filled, 
and  with  the  rising  sun  the  pools  seemed  to  deluded 
Moab  tinged  with  the  blood  of  an  army  divided 
against  itself,  and  they  rushed  forward  only  to  be 
overwhelmed  with  defeat. 

A  great  deal  of  this  digging  ditches  and  borrow- 
ing vessels  is  often  needful  before  we  are  in  a  con- 
dition to  receive  some  of  God's  best  gifts.  There  is, 
for  instance,  the  preparation  which  comes  in  the 
development  of  a  larger  sense  of  need.  Men  must 
have  great  wants  before  they  begin  to  make  great 
requests  ;  and  very  often  they  are  scantily  supplied 
because  they  seek  only  the  supply  of  certain  famil- 
iar and  comparatively  small  needs  ;  only  to  fill  the 
empty  vessels  in  their  own  houses.  The  very  richest 
of  God's  blessings  come  to  him  who  has  nothing 
but  God,  and  is  therefore  compelled  to  seek  his  all 
in  God.  ''Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit:  for  theirs 
is  the  kingdom  of  Heaven."  But  many  a  man  is  so 
well  supplied  in  his  own  esteem,  that  his  range  of 
conscious  need  is  very  limited.  He  must  have  it  en- 
larged ere  he  can  receive  those  large  blessings  which 
are  made  to  fit  into  the  great  abysmal  needs  of  the 
human  heart.  And  God  does  such  a  man  a  service 
when  He  leads  him  outside  the  little  space  hemmed 
in  by  his  self-satisfaction  and  conceit,  and  shows  him 


The  Mtdtiplicd  Oil.  349 

the  great  empty  spaces  in  his  life  ;  when  care  and 
weakness  and  grief,  and  the  sense  of  sin  and  igno- 
rance bring  empty  vessels  into  his  house,  which 
there  is  no  one  on  earth  to  fill.  He  learns  to  ask 
large  things  very  quickly  then.  And  not  unfrequent- 
ly  one's  neighbors  help  him  to  this.  To  a  man  who 
has  real  manhood  in  him,  contact  with  other  men  is 
a  wonderful  developer  of  the  sense  of  need.  He  can- 
not be  long  with  wiser  men  without  having  borne  into 
him  a  keen  sense  of  his  own  ignorance.  He  cannot 
live  with  a  richly-endowed  spiritual  life,  which  moves 
in  an  atmosphere  of  prayer  and  has  its  conversation 
in  heaven,  without  an  enlarged  and  quickened  cra- 
ving for  the  richer  life  of  heaven. 

Then,  too,  there  are  certain  blessings  which  can 
come  to  one  only  through  the  enlargement  of  his 
sympathies.  He  who  shuts  himself  up  within  his  own 
little  circle  of  refinement  and  culture  and  selfish 
pleasure,  and  never  goes  forth  as  God's  minister  of 
joy  and  help  to  a  lower,  darker  region,  to  which  taste 
and  comfort  and  hope  are  alike  strangers,  does  not 
know  the  blessing  there  is  for  him  there  :  Christ's 
blessing  that  waits  on  ministry.  He  can  get  that  new 
enjoyment  only  by  going  down  after  it  ;  and  every 
poor  man  he  visits  and  relieves ;  every  burdened 
heart  he  makes  lighter ;  every  tear  he  wipes  away,  is 
the  creator  of  an  enlarged  capacity  for  a  purer  happi; 
ne^s.  The  man  who  is  content  to  live  within  his  lit- 
tle sectarian  circle,  and  who  has  brought  himself  to 
believe  that  no  good  lies  outside  it,  is  not  open  to  the 
joy  of  a  broader   Christian  fellowship.     He  cannot 


350  Faith  and  Character. 

receive  it  until  he  goes  out  of  his  own  door.  The 
very  capacity  for  it  is  a  vessel  which  he  must  get  from 
his  neighbor.  There  was  such  a  joy  in  store  for 
Peter,  in  the  grander  view  of  Christ's  mission,  in  the 
fellowship  of  such  faithful  Gentile  souls  as  Corne- 
lius ;  but  his  heart  must  first  be  enlarged  to  take  in 
the  Roman  centurion,  by  the  vision  w^hich  God  sent 
him  on  the  house-top. 

And  the  same  is  true  in  familiar  religious  experi- 
ence. Prayer  is  a  wonderful  medium  of  blessing,  and 
yet  the  apostle  bids  us  watch  unto  prayer,  with  a 
view  to  prayer,  before  we  pray,  that  we  may  enter  the 
closet  prepared  to  hear  what  God  the  Lord  shall 
speak,  and  to  receive  the  largest  measure  of  what  He 
shall  have  to  bestow.  The  man  who  rushes  into  his 
closet  out  of  the  seething  of  a  life  into  which  not  one 
thought  of  God  has  entered  since  his  last  formal  act 
of  prayer,  is  in  no  condition  to  receive  God's  spiritual 
gifts.  The  man  who  depends  upon  the  Sabbath  ser- 
vices or  the  weekly  prayer-meeting  to  lift  him  twice 
or  thrice  in  the  week  out  of  an  atmosphere  of  utter 
worldliness,  will  not  find  himself  lifted  very  high. 
It  is  rather  he  who  sets  his  mind  in  his  daily  task  to 
hallow  all  he  finds  :  he  whose 

"  Is  the  bliss  of  souls  serene 
When  they  have  sworn,  and  steadfast  mean, 
Counting  the  cost,  in  all  t'  espy 
Their  God,  in  all  themselves  deny :  " 

and  who,  in  the  outworking  of  this  high  purpose,  has 
grown  distrustful  of  self,  and  hungry  for  the  continual 


The  Multiplied  Oil,  351 

presence  of  God  ;  it  is  he  who  comes  to  the  place  of 
prayer  as  the  dweller  in  a  thirsty  land  goes  forth  at 
the  rising  of  a  cloud,  setting  all  his  vessels  to  catch 
the  gift  of  the  skies  ;  it  is  he  whose  vessels  are  filled. 
Do  you  know  why  David,  even  in  the  cave  in  which 
he  hid  from  Saul,  could  sing  so  joyously,  as  in  the 
fifty-seventh  Psalm,  ''Awake  up,  my  glory;  awake, 
psaltery  and  harp  ;  I  myself  will  awake  early.  I  will 
praise  Thee,  O  Lord,  among  the  people  ;  I  will  sing 
unto  Thee  among  the  nations  ? "  You  will  find  the 
reason  in  the  seventh  verse  :  *'  My  heart  is  prepared,^ 
O  God,  my  heart  is  prepared." 

The  vessels,  being  thus  procured,  the  widow  was 
commanded  by  the  prophet  to  shut  herself  in  her 
house  with  her  sons,  and  to  pour  out  the  flask  of 
anointing  oil  into  the  vessels.  Here,  again,  there  was 
room  for  doubt.  That  little  flask,  and  that  great  ar- 
ray of  empty  vessels.  It  seemed  absurd  that  the  less 
could  fill  the  greater.  But,  as  before,  she  obeyed 
without  question.  She  began  to  pour,  and  in  a  mo- 
ment she  saw  that  a  mightier  hand  than  hers  was  at 
work.  Vessel  after  vessel  was  filled,  and  still  the  sons 
handed  fresh  vessels,  and  bore  them  away  full  like 
the  rest  ;  and  still,  without  a  thought  in  her  believing 
heart  of  the  stream  being  stayed,  she  held  the  flask's 
mouth  downward  and  called  for  still  another  vessel, 
and  there  w^as  not  another.  Her  own  and  her  neigh- 
bors' jars  were  full  ;  and  then,  and  not  till  then,  the 
oil  stayed. 

'  Such  is  the  meaning  o{  *'Jixed.^^ 


352  Faith  and  Character. 

Two  or  three  thoughts  force  themselves  upon  us  at 
this  point  in  the  story.  Look  at  that  picture  of  the 
widow  and  her  children  alone  in  the  house,  without 
the  presence  even  of  the  prophet  of  God,  the  door 
shut  against  all  intrusion  and  observation,  and  that 
wondrous  display  of  miraculous  power  going  on  for 
that  humble  family  alone.  Miracle,  in  God's  admin- 
istration, is  not  an  idle  display  to  catch  the  eye  of  the 
crowd.  Many  a  wise  man  of  this  world  would  have 
said,  "  Such  a  mar^^el  of  divine  energy  should  not 
have  been  confined  to  two  or  three  poor,  perhaps  ig- 
norant people,  and  shut  vip  within  a  little  cabin.  It 
should  have  been  exhibited  in  open  day  before  crowds 
of  the  learned  and  thoughtful.  Grant  that  it  was  an 
act  of  mercy.  Less  would  have  satisfied  the  widow's 
want.  No  need  for  such  an  exertion  of  power."  Ah  ! 
such  have  to  learn  that  God  has  nothing  too  good  or 
too  great  for  the  poorest  soul  that  loves  and  trusts 
Him.  Such  reason  as  if  mighty  works  of  this  kind 
were  as  strange  to  God  as  to  them,  not  realizing  that 
they  are  the  familiar  facts  of  His  very  being  ;  that 
such  words  as  those  which  raised  Lazarus  from  the 
dead,  and  changed  the  water  into  w^ine,  and  set  the 
paralytic  leaping  for  joy,  are  household  words  to 
Him.  There  was  only  a  single  prophet  of  the  Lord, 
at  Dothan,  in  the  day  when  the  Syrian  host  compassed 
it  about  ;  and  yet  the  anointed  eyes  of  his  servant  saw 
the  whole  mountain  round  about  full  of  the  chariots 
and  armies  of  God.  They  were  there  for  the  sake  of 
Elisha  alone  ;  and  that  poor  serv^ant  who  had  cried, 
"Alas,  my  master,  and  how  shall  we  do?"  learned, 


The  Multiplied  Oil.  353 

as  in  a  flash  of  light,  that  the  whole  host  of  heaven  is 
not  too  much  to  enlist  when  a  single  servant  of  God 
is  in  need  or  in  danger. 

And  then,  too,  what  beautiful  suggestions  of  family- 
devotion  flow  to  us  from  within  the  widow's  closed 
doors.  Mother  and  children  alike  employed  ;  one 
pouring,  another  holding  the  vessel,  another  storing 
away  the  treasure.  God's  miracles  of  grace,  God's 
sweetest  and  most  blessed  demonstrations  of  spiritual 
power,  are  not  withheld  from  the  humblest  family 
altar,  any  more  than  from  the  public  sanctuary. 
How  is  it,  father,  mother,  when  the  doors  are  shut  on 
you  and  your  household  group  in  the  morning  or  in 
the  evening,  is  there  good  store  of  vessels  to  receive 
the  treasure  ?  Do  you  come  with  prepared  hearts  to 
the  family  altar  ?  Or  do  you  come  only  to  preserve 
family  order  and  outward  religious  decency,  not 
thinking  it  possible  that  your  familiar  service  may  be 
the  scene  of  God's  manifestation,  and  your  household 
altar  glow  with  such  fire,  as  that  which  fell  upon  Eli- 
jah's sacrifice  on  Carmel  ?  How  is  it  ?  Are  all  of 
your  household  group  present  as  participators  in 
your  household  worship  ?  Oh,  those  little  flasks  in 
God's  hand  !  How  much  they  pour  out  sometimes. 
How  God  sometimes  strikes  a  fountain  of  thought  or 
of  feeling  in  the  artless  question  of  the  youngest  of 
the  group.  Often  the  head  of  the  household  hesitates 
to  set  up  the  family  altar,  just  because  he  thinks 
only  of  how  little  the  flask  is  ;  how  limited  his  power 
of  expression  ;  how  small  his  gift  in  prayer  ;  how 
little  his  education  perhaps,  so  that  he  hesitates  to 


354  Fait  J L  and  Character. 

read  the  word  of  God  aloud.  My  friend,  let  the  flask 
alone  ;  think  of  God's  touch  upon  the  oil.  The  great 
question  with  you  at  the  family  altar  is  not  how 
well  you  can  pray  or  expound  the  Scriptures,  but, 
is  God  there?  If  so,  never  mind  the  flask;  take  it 
and  pour  out ;  and  that  hand  which  multiplied  the 
oil  shall  fill  even  your  broken  petition  with  the  very 
spirit  of  grace  and  supplication,  and  make  the  verse 
which  the  youngest  child  stammeringly  reads,  run 
like  a  stream  from  the  river  of  God.  The  vessels 
shall  be  filled.  There  ought  to  be  more  such  mira- 
cles at  the  household  altars.  But  it  is  the  old  fault, 
the  old  mistake,  one  of  the  deepest  rooted  in  all  our 
religious  life  —  that  we  are  not  to  expect  God  in 
familiar  scenes  ;  that  special  divine  gifts  are  reserved 
for  special  occasions.  And  so  while  the  river  of 
divine  power,  broad  and  deep,  flows  at  our  very 
thresholds,  we  refuse  to  launch  our  boats  and  dip 
our  pitchers,  waiting  for  some  laboriously  cut  canal 
of  man's  devising.  These  familiar  channels  are  the 
very  ones  through  which  we  ought  to  expect — through 
Avhich  God  encourages  and  teaches  us  to  expect  the 
richest,  sweetest,  deepest  manifestations  of  His  grace. 
There  is  another  thought  at  which  I  can  only 
glance  :  that  the  divine  gift  was,  in  kind,  of  the  same 
character  as  the  original  possession.  She  had  only 
a  little  oil,  and  God  paid  her  debt  with  oil.  God 
might  have  heaped  up  the  floor  with  gold.  He  might 
have  filled  the  jars  with  wine,  but  there  would  have 
been,  or  so  it  looks  to  us,  an  incongruity  in  that. 
But   the   miraculous  gift  was  in  beautiful  harmony 


The  Multiplied  Oil,  355 

with  the  original  gift.  It  was  just  so  at  Zarephath, 
in  the  house  of  that  other  widow.  She  had  only  a  lit- 
tle meal  and  a  little  oil.  God  might  have  fed  her  as 
He  did  Elijah,  by  means  of  the  ravens,  but  He  did  it 
by  means  of  her  own  barrel  and  cruse.  When  the 
five  thousand  were  assembled,  and  were  hungry,  it  was 
entirely  possible  for  Christ,  by  a  word,  to  make  fruit 
trees,  laden  with  fruit  enough  for  the  whole  multi- 
tude, grow  up  over  their  heads.  Instead  of  this  he 
used  what  was  at  hand.  There  was  a  little  bread  and 
fish,  and  he  fed  them  with  bread  and  fish.  And  I 
think  you  have  found,  or  will  find,  in  your  own  ex- 
perience of  God's  gifts,  that  when  God  sets  you  to 
looking  for  what  you  have,  asks  you  **What  hast 
thou  in  the  house?" —  it  is  that  He  may  make  that 
thing  the  vehicle  of  your  blessing.  I  have  some- 
where heard  of  one  who  had  no  gift  to  preach,  but 
some  power  to  pray.  God  took  what  he  had,  and  de- 
veloped that ;  and  the  man  prayed,  and  prayed,  until 
he  became  a  power  in  the  church  ;  until  his  very  pres- 
ence in  a  congregation  inspired  the  minister  of  the 
word  with  faith,  and  lent  unction  and  might  to  the 
preaching  of  the  truth.  That  woman  who  anointed 
the  feet  of  Jesus,  had  only  a  single  flask  of  ointment, 
as  the  widow  of  oil.  Christ  did  not  give  that  woman 
a  name  in  his  church  through  anything  but  that  flask 
of  ointment ;  but  the  odor  of  that  ointment  is  as 
sweet  and  penetrating  this  day  as  it  was  in  Simon's 
banqueting  chamber.  That  one  act  has  been  a  les- 
son to  the  church  for  nineteen  centuries,  gathering 
power  and  meaning  as  men  have  gained  insight  into 


35^  Faith  mtd  Character. 

the  character  and  work  and  teaching  of  the  Son  of 
man. 

So  I  might  dwell  on  the  abundance  of  the  sup- 
ply of  oil.  More  than  enough  was  given  her  to  pay 
her  debt.  She  asked  but  to  satisfy  her  creditors, 
and  God  gave  her  that  and  a  living  besides.  And  it 
is  worth  noting  how  beautifully  the  light  is  thrown 
backward  from  the  gospel  upon  this  incident.  This 
same  fulness  of  giving  comes  out  in  the  parable  of 
the  friend  at  midnight,  who,  when  he  did  rise  at  his 
neighbor's  importunity,  gave  not  only  three  loaves 
but  as  many  as  he  needed. 

So,  too,  I  might  speak  of  the  fact  that,  having  re- 
ceived God's  gift,  the  w^idow  sought  God's  direction 
in  the  use  of  it.  When  the  vessels  were  full,  she 
went  and  told  the  man  of  God.  Our  contact  with 
God  is  not  intended  to  be  occasional.  It  is  to  be 
a  life  of  faith  ;  and  hence  God  often  sends  a  gift  so 
large  that  it  embarrasses  us,  and  sends  us  again  and 
again  to  the  mercy-seat  to  learn  how  to  deal  with 
what  has  been  so  bountifully  given. 

We  leave  this  beautiful  narrative  here.  Is  it  not  a 
striking  proof  of  the  heavenly  origin  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, that  these  old  lessons  and  stories,  dealing  with 
the  men  and  habits  of  an  age  so  remote  and  so  differ- 
ent from  our  own,  have  still  a  power  to  instruct  us 
in  our  duty  to  our  own  age,  and  to  quicken  our  re- 
ligious thought,  and  make  closer  our  contact  with 
heaven  ?  Oh,  if  you  feel  yourselves  needy  to-day, 
listen  to  God's  voice  as  it  turns  you  upon  yourselves 
to  examine  your  own  resources.     And  when  you  fuid 


The  Multiplied  Oil.  357 

only  some  poor  little  gift,  hesitate  not  to  bring  it 
into  use.  Its  very  littleness  will  turn  your  thought 
from  it  to  Him  whose  word  can  multiply  and  fructify 
it.  Only  learn  this  lesson  of  trust  and  of  obedience. 
Put  yourselves  in  contact  with  God.  Give  out  what 
you  have,  and  leave  the  ''excellency  of  the  power  " 
where  it  belongs,  with  God.  Not  only  your  vessels, 
but  your  neighbors'  shall  be  filled.  You  deal  with  a 
God  to  whom  wonders  are  familiar  things  ;  and  faith 
shall  make  them  familiar  to  you  likewise,  and  shall 
keep  your  life  in  that  high  plane  where  God  manifests 
Himself  as  He  doth  not  unto  the  world. 


THE   ETERNITY   OF   GODLY 
CHARACTER. 


I  JOHN  II. 

(17)  And  the  world  passeth  away,  and  the  lust  thereof  :  but 
he  that  doeth  the  will  of  God  abideth  forever. 


XX. 

THE    ETERNITY   OF    GODLY    CHARACTER. 

It  is  plain  to  us  all  that  men  habitually  seek  what 
is  permanent.  Whatever  mistakes  they  may  make  in 
their  conceptions  of  permanency,  or  in  their  modes 
of  seeking  it,  they  want  what  is  sure,  steadfast,  abid- 
ing. This  is  true  in  their  living  and  in  their  think- 
ing. Out  of  the  restlessness  and  shifting  of  their  ac- 
tive life  they  look  forward  to  a  time  when  they  shall 
be  '' settled."  They  are  busy  making  for  themselves 
what  they  call  established  reputations  and  permanent 
fortunes.  They  are  ambitious  to  continue  to  live  in 
the  memory  and  in  the  admiration  and  gratitude  of 
men  after  they  shall  have  died.  Under  this  motive,"* 
they  have  made  conquests  and  established  dynasties ; 
they  have  piled  pyramids  and  built  colossal  sepul- 
chres, and  carved  sphynxes,  have  written  books  and 
painted  pictures. 

So  it  is  in  thinking.  They  look  for  solid  ground 
from  which  to  think.  They  push  back  from  facts  to 
the  principle  behind  them.  They  are  not  satisfied 
with  seeing  the  apple  fall.  They  must  know  what 
immutable  law  has  regulated  the  fall  of  every  apple 
that  has  dropped  since  the  foundation  of  the  world. 
They  search  for  the  eternal  centre  of  the  physical 
i6 


362  Faith  and  Character, 

universe,  for  the  key-note  of  nature,  for  the  fixed 
laws  of  their  own  intellectual  being. 

But  the  most  important  question  of  all  to  men,  is 
the  question  of  th.Q\v  personal  permanency  :  **  Shall  I 
live  forever,  and  how  shall  I  live  forever?"  They 
may  be  anxious  to  be  favorably  remembered  ;  to  leave 
the  world  abiding  tokens  of  their  skill  and  industry 
and  genius;  but  above  all  rise  the  questions,  "Shall 
/  abide  as  well  as  my  w^ork  ?  Hoiu  long  shall  I 
abide  ?  Where  shall  I  abide  ?  "  You  cannot  lay 
such  questions  with  such  an  icicle  as  this  which  I  read 
not  long  ago  in  a  leading  periodical  :  *'  Our  future  is 
simply  an  active  existence  prolonged  by  society. 
There  is  no  promise,  be  it  plainly  said,  of  anything 
but  an  immortality  of  influence.  We  cannot  even 
say  that  we  shall  continue  to  love,  but  we  know  that 
we  shall  be  loved.  It  may  be  that  we  shall  con- 
sciously know  no  hope  ourselves,  but  we  shall  inspire 
hopes.  It  may  be  that  we  shall  not  think,  but  others 
will  think  our  thoughts  and  enshrine  our  minds." 
That  may  satisfy  an  exceptional  man  here  and  there  ; 
the  average  man's  instinct  will  reject  it.  He  will  not 
surrender  his  eternal  personality  at  the  word  of  a 
philosopher.  He  will  come  back,  persistently,  obsti- 
nately, blindly,  if  you  will,  to  the  old  question,  *'  How 
shall  I  abide  forever  ?  " 

Whether  we  may  think  that  the  Bible  answers  the 
question  or  not,  we  cannot  help  seeing  that  it  is  meant 
to  do  so.  Personal  immortality  is  the  thought  which 
underlies  and  perwides  its  whole  movement.  It  is, 
indeed,   true  that  the  thought  does  not  often  come 


The  Eter7iity  of  Godly  Character.         363 

distinctly  to  the  surface  throughout  the  earlier  stages 
of  Bible  history  ;  but,  from  the  moment  that  the  first 
man  forfeited  the  gift  of  immortality  by  his  disobedi- 
ence, the  purpose  of  recovery  enters  into  the  course 
of  the  history,  and  gives  direction  to  it,  and  animates 
the  words  of  prophecy,  until  the  promise  of  the  past 
is  fulfilled  in  Christ,  who  comes  to  bring  life  and  im- 
mortality to  light  through  his  gospel. 

Our  text,  therefore,  gathers  up  into  itself  what  is 
diffused  over  the  whole  of  Scripture,  and  meets  the 
questioner  with  a  distinct  and  exhaustive  answer. 
You  may  abide  forever.  Not  your  memory,  not  your 
works.  These  may  abide,  but  not  forever.  They 
may  abide  as  long  as  the  world,  but  the  world  is  not 
forever.  It  passeth  away.  You  may  abide  forever. 
*'  The  world  passeth  away,  but  he  that  doeth  the  will 
of  God  abideth  forever." 

How  may  this  be  ?  And  first  we  are  told  how  it 
cannot  be.  It  cannot  come  to  pass  through  anything 
earthly.  The  warning  is  explicit,  not  to  attach  the 
thought  of  permanency  to  anything  on  earth,  nor  to 
the  world  itself.  And  it  is  worth  noting  how  this  is 
put.  It  is  not  that  the  world  is  destined  to  pass  away. 
It  is  not  such  a  warning  as  an  experienced  builder 
would  give  to  a  man  who  should  be  intending  to  put 
his  house  upon  ground  apparently  firm,  but  which  the 
builder  knew  would  one  day  bring  the  house  about  his 
ears.  It  is  rather  as  though  one  should  call  his  neigh- 
bor's attention  to  the  already  begun  movement  of  a 
land-slide.  The  thing  is  already  at  work.  It  appeals 
to  observation  now.     The  world  is  passing  away.     You 


364  Faith  and  Character. 

have  but  to  look  and  you  may  see.  Just  stand  where 
you  are  to-day,  and  see  what  is  behind  you  ;  the  past, 
that  which  has  already  gone  by.  What  a  tremendous 
range  your  backward  look  takes  in.  It  is  an  oppres- 
sive thought,  how  much  of  the  passing  away  is  al- 
ready accomplished.  What  a  long,  dimming  perspec- 
tive of  passed-away  things — men  by  scores  of  millions, 
empires,  nations.  And  to-day  we  say,  jubilantly, 
*' the  world  moves."  Yes,  it  does,  and  no  doubt  to- 
ward something  better,  and  yet  it  is  none  the  less  mov- 
ing aivay.  We  say,  jestingly,  *'  we  are  getting  on." 
Surely  we  are.  Our  children — but  yesterday  we  heard 
their  infant  prattle,  to-day  they  are  our  companions. 
It  seems  as  though  the  echo  of  our  ow^n  boyish  laugh- 
ter was  yet  in  our  ears,  but  the  struggle  of  manhood 
is  on  us  in  all  its  intensity.  The  w^orld  is  passing  away. 
The  men  to  whom  we  used  to  look  up  as  to  kings,  and 
for  whom  the  instinctive  reverence  still  lives  in  our 
hearts,  are  gone  and  well-nigh  forgotten.  There  have 
been  certain  things  we  always  meant  to  do.  The  time 
had  not  come,  but  it  would  come  presently.  Well,  we 
have  come  to  where  we  have  quietly  faced  and  accept- 
ed the  fact  that  they  never  will  be  done.  The  oppor- 
tunity has  gone.  Some  of  you,  when  you  sit  down 
and  begin  to  call  up  old  companions  and  schoolmates, 
find  that  you  are  almost  alone.  Your  class  in  college — 
how  many  are  left  ?  There  are  more  of  them  in  the 
other  world  than  here.  That  was  a  significant  phrase 
which  the  old  Romans  had  to  express  the  fact  of  a 
man's  death:  **  he  has  gone  over  to  the  majority." 
The  world  is  passing  away.     Oh,  how  the  years  rush  ! 


The  Eternity  of  Godly  Character,         365 

A  summer  day  used  to  be  so  long.  It  is  so  short  now. 
The  holidays  used  to  seem  so  far  apart :  there  is  only 
a  step  between  them  now,  and  the  anniversaries,  es- 
pecially the  birthdays,  fairly  crowd  upon  each  other's 
heels  ;  and  some  of  you  are  well-nigh  done.  You 
have  been  setting  your  houses  in  order,  and  you  find 
yourselves  now  and  then  looking  forward  into  your 
own  vacant  place,  and  wondering  who  will  be  sitting 
at  your  desk  and  doing  your  work.  You  have  se- 
cured a  few  feet  of  ground  in  God's  acre,  perhaps  the 
only  real  estate  left  of  acres  that  have  passed  away. 
It  will  not  be  long  now.     The  world  passeth  away. 

Well,  all  that  sounds  sadly  enough,  but  I  know  not 
after  all  if  we  need  grow  sad  over  it.  If  the  world  is 
all  we  have,  and  if  our  all  is  passing  away  with  the 
world,  it  is  sad  enough,  surely.  But  there  was  a  good 
deal  more  than  a  jest  in  the  reply  which  a  well  known 
man  of  letters  made  to  a  friend,  who  said  :  '^  They  say 
that  the  world  is  coming  to  an  end  within  so  many 
years."  ''Well,"  replied  the  other,  "let  it  come  to  an 
end.  We  can  get  on  very  well  without  it."  That  is 
the  very  point.      Can  we  do  very  well  without  it  ? 

We  come  back  again  to  our  text.  There  is  such  a 
thing  as  eternal  abiding,  independently  of  the  world. 
Abiding  forever  is  not  affected  by  the  fact  that  the 
world  passeth  away.  It  passeth,  but  he  that  doeth 
the  will  of  God  abideth,  and  that  forever.  There  is 
the  divine  law  of  permanency.  It  resides  in  doing 
the  will  of  God. 

And  that  phrase,  doing  the  will  of  God,  carries 
with  it,  as  the  inevitable  condition  of  abiding  forever, 


366  Faith  and  Character, 

the  truth  of  subjugation.  Permanency  here,  so  far  as 
anything  can  be  permanent  here,  and  eternal  life, 
come  through  a  man's  doing  another  will  than  his 
own,  and  consequently  through  the  subjugation  of 
his  own  will.  Subjugation.  You  know  the  word, 
coming  and  being  under  a  yoke  ;  and  that,  to  not  a 
few  minds,  seems  a  strange  preparation  for  such 
glory  and  triumph  as  are  implied  in  the  words  '*  abid- 
ing forever."  Many  a  man  will  be  tempted  to  say: 
**Why,  such  subjugation  will  wreck  my  manhood  at 
the  outset ;  and  then  farewell  to  anything  permanent 
or  valuable  in  my  life." 

And  yet  subjugation  is  not  necessarily  ruin.  In 
certain  spheres  with  which  you  are  quite  familiar  it 
is  the  indispensable  condition  of  value  and  power. 

For  instance,  there  is  a  mass  of  quartz  contain- 
ing gold.  The  question  is  not  whether  it  is  beauti- 
ful, everybody  acknowledges  that.  Not  whether  it 
is  precious  ;  it  has  gold  in  it ;  but  whether,  as  it 
stands,  it  is  the  best  it  is  capable  of  being.  The 
master  says  no.  It  is  of  no  use  in  its  present  state 
but  to  be  put  into  a  cabinet  to  be  looked  at.  There 
is  value  in  it,  but  not  in  its  present  shape.  The  first 
condition  of  developing  that  value  is  subjugation. 
The  quartz,  if  it  could  reason  about  the  matter, 
might  say,  '*  My  crystals  are  beautiful.  I  am  flecked 
with  precious  gold.  I  am  good  enough  as  I  am  ;  and 
for  me  to  go  into  the  crusher  is  simply  to  ruin  me." 
And  yet,  into  the  crusher  it  must  go.  The  beautiful 
crystals  must  be  broken  all  to  pieces.  The  crusher 
is  not  enough.     The  fire  comes  next.     More  subjuga- 


The  Eternity  of  Godly  Character,  367 

tion  ;  it  is  run  into  a  mould  and  shaped  according  to 
the  master's  will.  The  ingot  goes  to  the  mint.  Still 
more  subjugation.  It  is  cut  in  pieces.  It  is  mould- 
ed into  circular  disks  ;  and  at  last,  down  comes  the 
die  of  the  coining  press  upon  each  piece,  and  the 
gold,  so  different  from  what  it  was  when  buried  in 
the  quartz,  is  not  ruined.  For  the  first  time  it  is  a 
power.  The  sign  of  a  great  state  is  upon  it.  It  rep- 
resents far  more  than  its  own  actual  value.  It  bears 
the  image  of  a  king  or  the  emblems  of  a  common- 
wealth. It  no  longer  represents  crude  nature  as  it 
did  when  it  was  mixed  up  with  the  quartz,  but  it 
represents  organization,  civilization,  fleets,  armies, 
sovereignty.  From  the  stamp  of  the  coining  press 
it  has  received  a  character^  which  you  know  means  a 
mark.  Whatever  virtue,  or  power,  or  wealth  is  rep- 
resented by  the  state  is  conveyed  into  those  pieces; 
and  through  that  character,  won  only  through  subju- 
gation, the  gold  becomes  a  permanent  element  of  the 
w^orld's  commerce,  a  factor  in  that  vast  and  compli- 
cated system  called  finance. 

Now,  if  you  carry  the  illustration  up  into  man's 
moral  life,  you  will  find  it  fully  borne  out.  Charac- 
ter is  all  that  abides,  and  character  comes  to  man  as 
to  money,  only  through  subjugation.  When  God 
takes  a  man  in  hand,  it  is  that  He  may  make  him  a 
partaker  of  eternal  life  ;  and  to  this  end  He  must  set 
the  stamp  of  His  own  character  upon  him.  Hence 
He  tells  us  by  His  apostle,  that  He  called  His  chil- 
dren *'to  be  conformed  to  the  image  of  His  Son,"  to 
be  like  Jesus  Christ  who  is  *'the  brightness  of  His 


368  Faith  and  Character. 

glory  and  the  express  image  of  His  person."  And 
Christ,  when  he  comes  to  carry  out  this  design  of  the 
Father,  distinctly  invites  men  to  subjugation,  to  come 
under  the  yoke  :  "  Take  my  yoke  upon  you  and  learn 
of  me."  His  demand  goes  to  the  very  roots  of  the 
man's  life  :  "  If  any  man  will  be  my  disciple,  let  him 
deny  hi mst'//."  That  means  a  great  deal  more  than 
his  doing  without  something  that  he  likes.  To  deny 
self  is  to  say  that  self  is  not.  It  is  to  make  self  prac- 
tically inoperative  wherever  the  will  of  Christ  is  con- 
cerned. Let  him  take  up  the  cross.  That  is  only 
the  figurative  expansion  of  the  same  thought.  The 
cross  is  just  what  its  name  imports.  It  is  the  cross- 
ing of  man's  will  with  God's ;  its  burden  is  the  strug- 
gle of  man's  heart  to  say,  *'Thy  will  and  not  mine  be 
done  ;"  and  the  coming  under  that  burden  is  subju- 
gation. 

So  when  a  man  comes  into  God's  hands,  asking, 
''What  shall  I  do  that  I  may  inherit  eternal  life?" 
he  goes  through  much  the  same  process  as  the  gold 
does.  There  is  a  good  deal  of  crushing  of  the  false 
growths  which  have  crystallized  in  his  life  ;  a  good 
deal  of  sifting  to  get  at  the  disordered,  scattered  ele- 
ments of  his  moral  power,  so  that  they  may  be  run 
into  the  mould  of  some  definite. purpose  ;  a  good  deal 
of  fiery  trial  before  he  falls  into  the  lines  of  duty. 
But  through  all  this,  God's  mark  comes  upon  him. 
The  image  and  superscription  of  the  Great  King 
shines  out  in  him.  He  acquires  a  character  which  is 
the  expression  of  the  will  of  God  and  of  the  order  of 
the  kingdom  of  heaven. 


The  Eternity  of  Godly  Character.         369 

But  subjugation  has  another  side,  an  active  side 
which  we  must  not  overlook  because  it  is  expressed 
in  the  text.  It  is  service.  Not  only  is  man  to  be 
subject  to  God's  will,  but  God's  will  must  be  done. 
To  go  back  to  the  figure,  it  is  not  enough  that  gold 
be  coined.  It  must  circulate.  Shut  up  those  eagles 
and  half-eagles  in  a  safe,  and  they  might  as  well  not 
have  been  coined  ;  they  were  coined  to  circulate. 
And  what  circulation  is  to  money,  service  is  to  char- 
acter. It  is  not  only  its  natural  consequence,  it  com- 
pletes the  idea  of  character.  It  is  its  active  side. 
Character  without  service  is  character  maimed.  But 
you  are  to  remember  that  service  gets  its  quality  from 
character.  Men  estimate  serv^ice  according  to  a  rule 
of  their  own.  They  distinguish  between  great  and 
small  services,  and  they  applaud  the  great,  and  care 
nothing  about  the  small.  But  it  is  with  Christian 
service  as  with  coinage.  The  eagle  may,  it  is  true, 
represent  more  power  than  the  dime  ;  but  the  stamp 
of  the  state  is  on  both,  and  gives  a  value  and  dignity 
to  the  dime  as  well  as  to  the  eagle.  And  in  Chris- 
tian service  God's  mark  upon  it  is  the  great  thing. 
God's  test  of  service  is  not  whether  it  is  great  or 
small;  but  whether  it  is  the  expression  of  His  spirit 
and  will  ;  whether  it  bears  His  character.  A  man's 
service  may  be  fragmentary,  all  broken  up  into  small 
change,  if  I  may  so  speak  ;  yet  if  each  fragment  be 
stamped  with  Christ's  image,  God  honors  the  service 
none  the  less.  You  see  that  thought  very  plainly 
brought  out  in  the  parable  of  the  talents.  The  com- 
mendation of  the  servants  does  not  turn  on  their  hav- 


370  Faith  and  Character. 

ing  brought  interest  for  five  or  for  two  talents.  It  is 
given  to  the  character  of  fidelity  stamped  upon  both 
services.  ''Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant." 
There  is  that  poor  widow  casting  her  two  mites  into 
the  treasury.  Wliy  has  the  act  come  down  to  us  em- 
balmed with  Christ's  praise  ?  Not  for  the  amount  she 
gave,  but  for  the  nobility  of  the  impulse  behind  the 
gift,  the  Christlike  devotion  which  made  her  cast  in 
all  her  living.  There  is  the  woman  breaking  the  ala- 
baster box  of  ointment  upon  Christ's  head.  A  little 
service  it  was.  A  little  ointment  wasted  (or  so  the 
disciples  thought).  A  sweet  odor  lingering  for  awhile 
in  the  house.  Was  that  all  ?  Why,  then,  is  the  per- 
fume of  that  ointment  still  fresh  in  the  courts  of  the 
Christian  church  ?  Not  for  the  gift,  but  for  the  peni- 
tent's love  to  Christ.  Our  Lord  states  this  principle, 
that  character  gives  quality  to  service,  in  those  words 
in  the  tenth  chapter  of  Matthew:  ''And  whosoever 
shall  give  to  drink  unto  one  of  these  little  ones  a  cup 
of  cold  water  only  in  the  name  of  a  disciple,  (because 
he  is  Christ's  disciple,  and  out  of  the  impulse  of  love 
for  Christ,)  I  say  unto  you  he  shall  in  no  wise  lose  his 
reward." 

And  the  men  who  thus,  through  subjugation  of 
self,  and  through  service,  bear  God's  mark,  are  the 
men  who  abide.  Their  works  abide.  There  is  some- 
thing in  the  permanency  of  character  and  of  its  fruits 
which  foreshadows  its  eternal  abiding.  You  see  it  in 
familiar  instances.  Take  the  man  or  the  woman  in 
your  own  circle  of  acquaintance  wliom  you  admire 
and  love  most,  or  whose  memory  you  cherish  most 


The  Eternity  of  Godly  Character.         371 

dearly.  What  is  it  that  you  cherish  ?  It  is  not  their 
wealth,  not  their  brilliancy,  not  their  learning  or  ac- 
complishments, but  they  stand  marked  in  your  mind 
and  memory  by  their  moral  traits.  The  other  things 
are  merely  circumstances  ;  these  things  are  wrought 
up  with  their  personality.  These  make  them  ;  and  it  is 
character  and  not  cirqumstance  which  you  love. 
When  circumstances  change  and  pass  away  with  the 
rest  of  the  world,  these  things  abide.  They  are  in- 
dependent of  the  world  ;  they  are  God's  sign  manual, 
showing  that  the  man  belongs  to  another  and  a  high- 
er order  of  things  ;  that  he  has  his  citizenship  in 
heaven. 

Look  back  to  your  school  days.  The  teacher  who 
has  left  his  mark  most  deeply  upon  you  was  not  al- 
ways the  most  brilliant  or  the  most  learned  one.  It 
was  the  best  man.  He  set  his  stamp  below  the  region 
of  your  culture  in  the  best  part  of  your  nature  ;  and 
even  though  he  may  have  had  the  learning  of  a  Ba- 
con, or  the  genius  of  a  Milton,  it  is  the  man  him- 
self, daily  living  out  God's  truth,  and  radiating  God's 
love,  who  abides  in  your  memory  and  in  your  life  by 
the  simple  power  of  character. 

You  cannot  help  seeing,  as  you  read  history,  how 
character  overtops  achievement.  There  is  Abraham, 
a  prince,  a  warrior,  a  conqueror,  the  progenitor  of  a 
mighty  nation  ;  and  yet  it  is  to  none  of  these  that  the 
world  pays  honor.  These  are  only  incidental  to  the 
great  moral  facts  of  faith  and  obedience.  Abraham 
represents  to  the  world,  not  victory,  not  wealth,  not 
population.     All  these  attached  to  him,  but  all  these 


372  Faith  and  Character, 

have  passed  away.  He  represents  character  ;  and  the 
power  of  his  cliaracter  is  working  as  vigorously  in  the 
nineteenth  century  as  in  the  infancy  of  time.  Job  was 
a  rich  man,  and  a  man  of  influence  ;  but  who  thinks 
of  Job's  riches  now  ?  Who  does  not  think  of  his  pa- 
tience ?  Yea,  the  character  which  came  so  triumph- 
antly out  of  that  fiery  trial  is  a  proverb  to-day,  even 
upon  the  lips  of  scoffers.  David  was  a  conqueror, 
but  the  interest  of  his  moral  history  swallows  up  the 
interest  of  his  conquests.  David  represents  to  the 
world  a  divine  call,  and  a  moral  shipwreck,  and  a  moral 
retrieval,  and  the  expression  of  devotion  through  the 
Psalms,  rather  than  the  victories  over  Philistia  and 
Moab  and  Ammon.  And  Jesus,  surely  his  impress  on 
the  world  is  the  impress  of  character.  He  rises  above 
all  his  circumstances.  His  works  and  his  words  take 
all  their  meaning  from  the  fact  that  he  does  and 
speaks  them.  They  are  immortal  because  his  charac- 
ter is  divine  ;  and  when  men  receive  the  impression 
of  Christ,  their  first,  spontaneous  utterance  is  not, 
"Behold  the  works  or  the  words,"  but  ''behold  the 
man  !  " 

Thus,  as  far  as  anything  on  earth  can  be  said  to 
abide,  character  abides.  As  the  greatest  movements 
of  history  are  its  moral  movements,  so  the  men  who 
live  in  the  world's  memory  and  gratitude  are  those  who 
survive  through  character  and  not  through  achieve- 
ment ;  the  men  whose  subjugation  to  the  will  of  God 
has  made  them  forgetful  of  self,  and  willing  to  be 
broken  up  in  love's  service  of  the  world  :  who  have 
lived  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister.    Yes, 


The  Eternity  of  Godly  Character,         '^']^ 

character  abides.  You  have  heard  the  story  of  the 
Egyptian  king  who  employed  an  architect  to  build 
him  a  lighthouse,  and  who  bade  him  cut  the  royal 
name  upon  it.  But  the  architect  covered  the  tower 
with  plaster  on  which  the  royal  cipher  stood  forth 
right  boldly,  while  deep  into  the  heart  of  the  granite 
beneath  he  cut  his  own  name.  And  the  years  passed, 
and  the  plaster  crumbled,  and  the  king's  name  van- 
ished, while  the  architect's  remained.  Man's  beauty 
and  strength,  his  gains  and  his  exploits,  are  graven  as 
in  plaster  ;  and  as  the  generations  drop  their  dews 
and  snows  upon  them  they  are  gone;  but  character  is 
written  as  ''with  an  iron  pen  and  lead  in  the  rock  for 
ever."  It  bears  God's  stamp,  and  is  immortal  because 
God  is  immortal.  Go  down  the  portrait  gallery  of 
the  world's  great  ones  and  draw  comparisons  for 
yourselves.  Alexander  and  Paul,  the  conquests  of 
ambition  and  the  conquests  of  devotion.  Plato  and 
David,  the  inspiration  of  culture  and  the  inspiration 
of  heaven.  Napoleon  the  man  of  destiny  and  Luther 
the  man  of  faith.  Whose  empire  is  the  larger  and  the 
mightier  ?  Which  gives  the  greater  promise  of  per- 
manence ?  Hands  unclasp,  and  loving  eyes  close  to 
open  no  more,  but  the  love  which  is  the  fulfilling  of 
the  law  does  not  pass  away.  The  martyr  is  crucified, 
but  the  truth  lives  on  and  leavens  the  world.  The 
Christian  dies,  but  his  works  follow  him.  And  every- 
thing, great  or  small,  which  bears  this  mark  of  doing 
God's  will,  takes  on,  through  this,  an  eternal  nature. 
Things  which  the  great  world  disregards,  little  ser- 
vices, kind  words,  patient  waitings,  hidden  sacrifices, 


374  Faith  and  Character. 

none  perish.  Little  dead  born  plans  over  which 
God's  children  weep  because  they  had  meant  them, 
in  good  faith,  as  offerings  to  Christ,  he  gathers  up 
as  they  drop  from  their  nerveless  grasp,  and  hides 
them  in  his  bosom,  and  some  day  they  shall  come 
back  with  the  hundred-fold  interest  of  heaven. 

So  we  begin  to  more  than  suspect  that  the  perma- 
nency of  character  here  is  but  the  foreshadowing  of 
a  deeper,  grander  fact,  namely,  that  godlike  character 
is  immortal  in  its  essence.  God's  word  asserts  it.  '*  He 
that  doeth  the  will  of  God  abideth  forever."  Char- 
acter, inspired  by  God,  won  through  subjugation  to 
His  will,  and  through  doing  His  will,  shall  share  His 
eternity.  Well  may  we  say,  '^  Let  the  world  pass,  and 
the  lusts  thereof,  if  this  may  be  our  lot."  Well  may 
we  say,  *'  Let  the  cross  press  ever  so  heavily,  let  the 
discipline  be  ever  so  severe,  let  the  self-surrender  be 
complete,  if  we  may  abide  forever  w4th  God."  Eter- 
nity !  a  conception  after  which  the  thought  pants  on 
in  vain  through  ages  and  cycles,  and  comes  back 
baffled  and  exhausted ;  eternity  with  God's  face  un- 
veiled, the  springs  of  his  wisdom  forever  open,  with 
thought  unshackled  by  sense,  love  untainted  with 
passion,  surrounded  by  the  holy  of  all  ages,  and  se- 
cure in  the  certainty  of  endless  rest,  this  is  the  inher- 
itance of  character. 

I  come  back,  in  conclusion,  to  the  thought  with 
which  I  began.  You  are  seeking  the  permanent,  the 
abiding,  all  of  you.  You  want  to  get  your  feet  upon 
something  solid.  What  you  want  in  your  life,  more 
than  anything  else,  is  the  sense  of  fixedness.     I  ask 


TJie  Ete7'nity  of  Godly   Character.         375 

you,  then,  where  are  you  seeking  this  ?  On  what 
kind  of  a  foundation  are  you  building,  and  what  are 
you  building  ?  Is  it  reputation,  fortune,  a  palace  of 
art,  a  literary  retreat  ;  and  think  you  that  when  your 
structure  is  finished  you  shall  go  in  and  dwell  there 
in  unbroken  peace,  on  foundations  that  never  shall 
rock  nor  tremble  beneath  you  ?  You  build  without 
the  best  warrant  of  all  if  this  be  so.  God  does  not 
say  these  things  shall  abide.  Nay,  you  have  but  to 
open  your  eyes,  and  see  how  the  vast  train  of  such 
builders,  with  their  buildings,  have  passed  away. 
And  the  world  is  passing  away  still.  Oh,  try  and 
face  eternity  for  a  moment  ;  try  and  feel  the  fact 
that  to-morrow,  or  to-day  it  may  be,  you  may  quietly 
step  across  the  line  which  bounds  this  earthly  scene, 
and  find  yourself  where  all  that  is  temporary  and 
perishable  has  passed  away  like  a  dream,  and  noth- 
ing remains  but  what  is  real  and  eternal  ;  and  as 
you  stand  in  thought  upon  that  awful  threshold,  ask 
yourself,  "What  is  there  real  about  me  ?  What  have 
I,  what  am  I  that  will  stand  the  touch  of  eternity  ? 
The  world  will  dwindle  as  you  stand  there.  The  in- 
terests which  call  out  so  much  of  your  zeal  and  riv- 
alry and  labor  will  shrivel,  and  your  own  heart  will 
tell  you  that  God  speaks  truth  when  He  says  that  he, 
and  only  he,  who  doeth  the  will  of  God  abideth  for- 
ever. Have  you  begun  this  work  of  building  char- 
acter ?  Have  you  put  yourself  under  God's  hands  to 
be  moulded  into  the  image  of  Christ  ?  Is  your  Avill 
shrinking  from  subjugation  to  Christ's  yoke  ?  Is 
your  reason  revolting  from  the  demand  of  faith  ?     I 


37^  Faith  and  Character. 

can  only  say  that  if  you  will  not  accept  these  condi- 
tions I  have  no  promise  of  immortality  for  you.  I 
know  of  nothing  but  faith  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  sub- 
jection to  his  will  and  word,  which  will  develop  god- 
like character ;  and  I  know  of  nothing  but  such 
character  which  has  any  promise  of  abiding  for- 
ever. It  is  well  that  in  this  busy,  distracting  world, 
you  should  have  some  established  connection  with 
eternity.  You  know  how  in  the  Indian  Ocean  the 
pearl-diver,  with  weights  tied  to  him  to  make  him 
sink,  plunges  into  the  deep,  and  searches  for  the 
pearls  on  the  bottom,  yet  having  always  a  cord  con- 
necting with  the  surface  by  which  he  can  ascend. 
My  brethren,  we  are  heavily  weighted  here.  We  are 
sunk  deep  in  the  eddies  of  business  and  of  study  ;  we 
are  seeking  treasure  of  one  kind  and  another.  Are 
we  linked  to  eternity  ?  Is  there  something  which,  in 
all  the  striving  and  whirl  of  our  life,  keeps  us  in  con- 
tact with  heaven  and  eternal  life  ?  This  is  the  great 
thing  after  all.  The  world  is  passing  away.  We 
shall  not  be  long  in  this  whirlpool.  What  then? 
Shall  we  abide  forever } 


Gates  Into  ^Psalm-Country 


BY 


Rev.  MARVIN  R.  VINCENT,  D.D. 


One  Volume,  12mo,    ------       $1.50, 

CRITICAL    NOTICES. 

"  The  book  may  be  cordially  recommended  to  the  perusal  of  young 
men  especially,  who  will  find  in  it  the  soundest  views  of  life  and  the  most 
elevated  religious  conceptions,  enforced  with  equal  kindness,  eloquence, 
and  power." — jVew  York  Tribune. 

"As  meditations  upon  that  portion  of  Scripture  designed  for  popular 
rather  than  critical  reading,  they  are  delightful.  The  thought  is  warm  and 
earnest,  and,  like  the  Psalms  themselves,  these  studies  suggested  by  them 
deal  with  the  common  experiences  of  life." — The  Churchman. 

"  In  the  execution  of  his  design,  Dr.  Vincent  has  shown  rare  skill  and 
ability.  The  work  seems  to  us  to  be  a  model  of  its  kind — scholarly,  thought- 
ful, enriched  but  not  encumbered  by  the  results  of  the  best  learning,  devout 
and  cheerful  in  spirit,  practical,  sensible,  and  like  the  Psalms  themselves, 
full  of  Christ  and  the  Gospel.  The  style  is  singularly  clear,  racy,  and 
incisive." — A^ew  York  Evangelist. 

"  They  are  rich  in  spiritual  counsel,  graceful  in  style,  happy  in  thought 
and  illustration.  The  book  is  meant  for  the  average  Bible-reader,  rather 
than  for  the  scholar,  and  any  devout  Christian  loving  the  Bible,  will  find  in 
it  an  abundance  of  interesting  and  suggestive  thought." — Boston  Watchman. 

"  The  treatment  is  deeply  spiritual,  the  tone  affectionate  and  earnest, 
and  the  style  clear,  direct,  and  often  picturesque  ;  and  we  are  sure  that 
many  a  Christian  will  find  in  the  volume  both  instruction  and  solace,  and 
varying  helps  for  varying  times  of  need." — Boston  Congregationalist. 

"They  who  thoughtfully  read  these  pages  find  themselves  not  only 
illummed  and  refreshed  by  the  immediate  subject,  but  stimulated  to  make 
the  Psalter  fruitful  under  their  own  meditative  study." 

— New  York  Christian  Intelligencer. 

"  Like  the  different  parts  of  a  beautiful  garden,  or  the  successive 
strains  of  sweet  music,  these  discourses  charm  the  soul  and  fill  it  with 
rupturous  emotions.  They  are  at  the  same  time  most  helpful  in  the  way 
of  right  V\\'\wg." —Lutheran  Quarterly. 

"Christians  of  every  name  will  find  strength  and  comfort  in  these 
essays,  which  are  as  sweet  as  they  are  simple,  and  as  solid  as  they  are 
unpretentious."— 7%^  Living  Church. 


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CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS, 

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Old  Faiths  in  New  Light 


NEWMAN    SMYTH, 

Author    of    •*  The    Religions    Feeling.'*^ 


One  Volume,  12mo,  cloth,        -        _         _         $1.50. 


This  work  aims  to  meet  a  growing  need  by  gathering  materials  of 
faith  which  have  been  quarried  by  many  specialists  in  their  own  depart- 
ments of  Biblical  study  and  scientific  research,  and  by  endeavoring  to 
put  these  results  of  recent  scholarship  together  according  to  one  leading 
idea  in  a  modern  construction  of  old  faith  Mr.  Smyth's  book  is  remark- 
able no  less  for  its  learning  and  wide  acquaintance  with  prevailing  modes 
of  thought,  than  for  its  fairness  and  judicial  spirit. 


CRITICAL.  NOTICES. 


"The  author  is  logical  and  therefore  clear.  He  also  is  master  of  a  singularly 
attractive  literary  style.  Pew  writers,  whose  books  come  under  our  eye,  succeed  in 
treating  metaphysical  and  philosophical  themes  in  a  manner  at  once  so  forcible  and  so 
interesting.  We  speak  strongly  about  this  book,  because  we  think  it  exceptionally 
valuable.  It  is  just  such  a  book  as  ought  to  be  in  the  hands  of  all  intelligent  men  and 
women  who  have  received  an  education  sufficient  to  enable  them  to  read  intelligently 
about  such  subjects  as  are  discussed  herein,  and  the  number  of  such  persons  is  very 
nuich  larger  than  some  people  think." — Congregationalist, 

"  We  have  before  had  occasi<m  to  notice  the  force  and  elegance  of  this  writer,  and 
his  new  book  shows  scholarship  even  more  advanced.  *  *  *  When  we  say.  with 
some  knowledge  of  how  much  is  undertaken  by  the  saying,  that  there  is  probably  no  book 
of  moderate  compass  which  combines  in  greater  degree  clearness  of  style  with  profundity 
of  subject  and  ot  reasoning,  we  fulfil  simple 'duty  to  an  author  whose  success  is  all  the 
more  marked  and  gratifying  from  the  multitude  of  kindred  attempts  with  which  we  have 
been  flooded  from  all  sorts  of  pens." — Presbyterian. 

"The  book  impresses  us  as  clear,  cogent  and  helpful,  as  vigorous  in  style  as  it  is 
honest  in  purpose,  and  calculated  to  render  valuable  service  in  showing  that  religion  and 
science  are  not  antagonists  but  allies,  and  that  both  lead  up  toward  the  one  God.  We 
fancy  that  a  good  many  readers  of  this  volume  will  entertain  toward  the  author  a  feeling 
of  sincere  personal  gratitude." — Boston  Journal. 

"  On  the  whole,  we  do  not  know  of  a  book  which  may  better  be  commended  to 
thoughtful  persons  whose  minds  have  been  unsettled  by  objections  of  modern  thought. 
It  will  be  found  a  wholesome  work  for  every  minister  in  the  land  to  read." 

— Examiner  and  Chronicle. 

"  It  is  a  long  time  since  we  have  met  with  an  abler  or  fresher  theological  treatise 
than  Olii  Faiths  in  New  Light,  hy  Newman  Smyth,  an  author  who  in  his  work  on 
"The  Religious  P'eeling "  has  already  shown  ability  as  an  expounder  of  Christian 
doctrine. "  — Inde/>endent. 


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The 


Conflict  of  Christianity 

WITH    HEATHENISM. 

By  DR.    GERHARD     UHLHORN. 

TRANSLATED     BY 
PROF.  EGBERT    C.  SMYTH    and    REV.  C.  J.  H.  ROPES. 


One    Volume,    Crown    8vo,   $2.50. 

This  volume  describes  with  extraordinary  vividness  and  spirit  the 
religious  and  moral  condition  of  the  Pagan  world,  the  rise  and  spread 
of  Christianity,  its  conflict  with  heathenism,  and  its  final  victory.  There 
is  no  work  that  portrays  the  heroic  age  of  the  ancient  church  with  equal" 
spirit,  elegance,  and  incisive  power.  The  author  has  made  thorough  and 
independent  study  both  of  the  early  Christian  literature  and  also  of  the 
contemporary  records  of  classic  heathenism. 


CRITICAL.     NOTICES. 

*'  It  is  easy  to  see  why  this  volume  is  so  highly  esteemed.  It  is 
systematic,  thorough,  and  concise.  But  its  power  is  in  the  wide  mental 
vision  and  well-balanced  imagination  of  the  author,  which  enable  him  to 
reconstruct  the  scenes  of  ancient  history.  An  exceptional  clearness  and 
force  mark  his  style." — Boston  Advertiser. 

"  One  might  read  many  books  without  obtaining  more  than  a  fraction 
of  the  profitable  information  here  conveyed  ;  and  he  might  search  a  long 
time  before  finding  one  which  would  so  thoroughly  fix  his  attention  and 
command  his  interest." — PAi7.   S.  S.    Times. 

"Dr.  Uhlhorn  has  described  the  great  conflict  with  the  power  of  a 
master.  His  style  is  strong  and  attractive,  his  descriptions  vivid  and 
graphic,  his  illustrations  highly  colored,  and  his  presentation  of  the  subject 
earnest  and  effective." — Providence  Journal. 

"The  work  is  marked  for  its  broad  humanitarian  views,  its  learning, 
and  the  wide  discretion  in  selecting  from  the  great  field  the  points  of 
deepest  interest." — Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

"  This  is  one  of  those  clear,  strong,  thorough-going  books  which  are 
a  scholar's  delight."— //art/ord  Religious  Herald. 


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ffii^  anh  llaHonalism. 

By  Prof.  GEORGE  P.  FISHER,  D.D.. 
Author   of  *' The    Beginnings   of   Christianity, "    The    Reformation,"    Etc. 


One  Volume,  12mo,  Clolh,  $1.25. 


*'  This  valuable  and  timely  volume  discusses  ably,  trenchantly  and 
decisively  the  subjects  of  which  it  treats.  It  contains  within  small  limits 
a  large  amount  of  information  and  unanswerable  reasoning." — PresbyUrian 
Banner. 

**  The  book  is  valuable  as  a  discussion  of  the  mysteries  of  faith  and 
the  characteristics  of  rationalism  by  one  of  the  clearest  writers  and 
thinkers. ' ' —  Washington  Post. 

"The  author  deals  with  many  of  the  questions  of  the  day,  and  does 
so  with  a  freshness  and  completeness  quite  admirable  and  attractive." 
•^-Presbyterian. 

*•  This  singularly  clear  and  catholic-spirited  essay  will  command  the 
attention  of  the  theological  world,  for  it  is  a  searching  inquiry  into  the 
very  substance  of  Christian  belief." — Hartford  Courant. 

*'  This  little  volume  may  be  regarded  as  virtually  a  primer  of  modem 
religious  thought,  which  contains  within  its  condensed  pa.2;es  rich  materials 
that  are  not  easily  gathered  from  the  great  volumes  of  our  theological 
authors.  Alike  in  learning,  style  and  power  of  descrimination,  it  is  honor- 
able to  the  author  and  to  his  university,  which  does  not  urge  the  claims 
of  science  by  slighting  the  worth  of  faith  or  philosophy." — N.  Y.  Times. 

"Topics  of  profound  interest  to  the  studious  inquirer  after  truth  are 
discussed  by  the  author  with  his  characteristic  breadth  of  view,  catholicity 
of  judgment,  affluence  of  learning,  felicity  of  illustration,  and  force  of 
reasoning.  .  .  .  His  singular  candor  disarms  the  prepossessions  of  his 
opponents.  ...  In  these  days  of  pretentious,  shallow  and  garrulous 
scholarship,  his  learning  is  as  noticeable  for  its  solidity  as  for  its  compass." 
^N.Y.  Tribune. 


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